Man Alone
by glittergoddess13
Summary: Out of Hell & denied by Sam & Bobby, Dean's alone-Dead inside. Odd new friends help him, but when he is hunted even this new life turns upside down. When all paths speak of endings, how can he choose the right one and reconnect with Sam? Limp! Emo! Pain!
1. Man Alone

"Woke up this morning without a face  
I've fooled myself again  
I've sold myself again  
Another wasted day counting shades  
Of gray, another fool's attempt to fall from grace"

**"A Man Alone" by Finch**

* * *

_Alone. Go figure._

He always ended up alone. All his life it seemed like he was leaving or someone was leaving him. In a world of billions of people, whirling about in droves, with thousands of wires and ways to connect, he felt utterly isolated. Perhaps it was his destiny to be a sole wanderer- a man void of any connects- meant to be cold blooded. All Dean Winchester knew was he didn't like it. Silently, he thought if he had a penny for all the things he didn't like he would give Hugh Hefner a run for his money.

_Three weeks, 7 hours, 5 minutes, 33 seconds._

That was how long it had been since he came back. His time in hell wiped clean like chalk on the sidewalk after it rains. When his eyes opened, he found himself in the dark and cold, fighting to survive. Again- alone- abandoned maybe. For the life, or even the death of him, he couldn't think a good reason for Sam and Bobby to leave him.

_But, they did_

_Two weeks, 12 hours, 8 minutes, 56 seconds._

That was how long it had been since he saw his brother or Bobby. Truth be told it was not the reunion he had hoped for. Sam reacted like a skilled hunter, believing Dean was an abomination.

_Maybe I am._

For all Dean knew, he could be the most unnatural thing in the world, one second away from turning into a beast so foul that even demons cry "What is that thing." After a lengthy interrogation, that would put the Spanish Inquisition to shame, Dean failed to provide Sam with evidence that it was really him.

What could I really say?

Not even all of heaven and earth could make Sam believe that Dean has miraculously been spared after his ironclad deal. When the opportunity arose, he feigned unconsciousness. It took a few kicks for Bobby or Sam to believe that ruse, but finally they gave up and left. At least the means they used to hold a demon didn't affect him. Only cuffs stood in the way of his escape. If Sam had even the slightest thought of his brother being alive, he would have never secured him that way.

_He'll never believe me!_

So he ran. Ran from Sam. Ran from Bobby. All forms of refuge perpetually denied to him. Maybe he was still in hell and this was it- to be cut off from everything you know.

A thoughtful observer would have noticed the bruising and wounds on Dean's torso. But there were no observers, thoughtful or otherwise. He was just another slob shuffling along in the masses. No one asked and he didn't offer. At least, the pain reminded him that some life beat inside of him.

_Life!_

That was about as welcome as boa constrictor in a mouse cage. What was life without any drive? He would have liked to have an emotional response to anything that had happened. All he could do was blankly try to find some way to sort it all out and find something to feel that wasn't just dead. Thinking back to all the times he had told everyone to keep the emo bullshit to themselves must have really given Karma a good excuse to afflict him with a lack of feelings.

_Made it too easy for fate to bitch slap me._

Even the fact that Sam took a shot at him at the so called reunion didn't faze him.

_Too bad he missed._

His body was here, but all he could figure was his soul was somehow burning in hell without him. Pondering such things was never his strong suit. Who really knows where the soul is or even what it is. It could just be that good part of you that is capable of love. And when Sam attacked at his return, he really couldn't hate, blame, or feel anything but empty.

So he ran and ran again, hustling here and there, hitching when he could, drifting from town to town, killing evil when he could, and hoping the next moment would bring him back to who he use to be.

_Or some bastardize piece._

Someone once told him to start at the beginning and at this point it might be the only wisdom afforded him. Finally, he ended up at the one place he once loved, but grew to loathe. But, even in the shadows of the homestead in Lawrence didn't make him feel.

_Just like me- alone and unwanted._

As he drew closer, he noticed the for sale sign in the front yard. No one wanted this place. It was an omen for the dark side. If he squinted really hard, he believed he could just make out the burn pattern outside Sam's nursery window. He couldn't, of course, but his mind could still bring them anew as if the fire had just occurred.

"Welcome home, Dean. Knew sooner or later you would show up here." A voice said. A body slipped from behind the shrubs and a few more popped from various hiding places. "Time to settle up some debts."

"I don't have any money and if you want fear…"

"We aren't after money. Blood is what we want. Eye for an eye. Death for a death."


	2. Why

"Why in the hell did you do this to me?" Sam asked no one in particular. For all he knew, no one would want to listen if he were talking to them. And he really preferred to have people's room instead of their company. He spent the night in what use to be Bobby's living room, sitting in the dark, listening to his own heartbeat and wanting it all to stop.

_**Why did this have to happen?**_

For the past four months, he tried in desperation to find a way to return Dean back from his hellish deal. He begged, demanded, and bordered on trying the absolute ridiculous. All avenues blocked and slammed to a close and each time Sam lost a little bit of the spark he had to go on. He hadn't even shed a tear up until now.

**_Guess hope wouldn't let me. Why do I feel so lost now?_**

Yet, with this newest monster coming into his life, he supposed it was time for those floodgates he held inside of him to break. It walked like Dean, cursed like Dean, and almost made Sam believe it was Dean. Anger burned through his orbs, overwhelmed at what he had just seen.

"Thought I'd find you up." Bobby muttered in the dark of the kitchen doorway before he walked to an easy chair, missing one leg that had been balanced by several books. He flipped on a single lamp as he inspected Sam for some hidden emotion on the young man's face.

"Couldn't sleep." Sam replied.

"Me neither. Can't shake…"

"That you want it to be him."

"Feel like a damn fool."

"….couple of damned fools." Sam took a huge breath and released it slowly. For the past few weeks, he had the overwhelming sensation that Dean was close, but he told himself it was because Dean was always there when he needed him. It made perfect sense to miss his brother when he needed him the most.

**_Where is he now!? Burning for me… paying for my failure._**

It seemed everything was falling apart for him.

**Or falling together for the demons.**

Sam's mind was reeling. Often, Bobby would find him staring into space, thinking of where he had gone wrong. An intrusion on his arm startled him and he jumped. His eyes widened, blinking rapidly, trying to bring his mind to focus.

**_Dammit Dean. You should be here!_**

Bobby seemed to understand, giving Sam space at just the right times, but like Dean, he kept a short lease on Sam's mindset. He just guessed he never realized how much Dean influenced them all. At sometimes, he could almost imagine it was Dean- telling him to eat or ordering him to clean his damn gun.

**_If only._**

Sighing heavily as if he might go off in a huff, Bobby couldn't find the words to make Sam feel better about this one. Losing Dean was hard enough, but to face down something walking in the skin of the man he loved like his own son- Bobby might as well asked to be buried himself on that day. He had kept busy looking for things to kill. Today, as he did so many times before, he turned on the national news, watching for patterns that only a seasoned hunter would be able to spot. Luck was being such a bitch, not giving them any lead to follow. The most action they had seen besides the fruitless rituals to bring Dean from Hell, as a spirit haunting the local TGI Fridays. Then, when the world seemed quiet, this faux Dean arrived. Worse, the creature seemed shocked by the welcome he was given.

"Storm front comin' Blizzard- nothing to get our dander up." He glanced at the screen once more before narrowing his focus on Sam, who was staring at flannel shirt the doppelganger left.

Sam frowned at the crumpled, shredded mess- the right size and style for Dean- almost the same one he buried his brother in- could be the same one. The marks of the hellhounds still as fresh on the garment as they were in Sam's memory.

"We should check his grave. Make sure he's…."

**_Okay, I was going to say okay._**

"Sure, Sam." Bobby replied, blankly.

"I just want to make sure…"

**_This damn thing did its home work._**

It was perfect. His Dean was perfect- it said the right things in the right way. And Sam let his emotions make him sloppy. He let the demon-shapeshiter- whatever it was- get away. Still he couldn't shake the feeling and the hope that this thing was his Dean- that his big brother beat the odds and came back from the depths of hell.

**_But it's a lie. My family is long gone._**

People like him didn't have kids or family. He didn't live behind a white fence with a dog or two cars in the garage. He didn't have a wife or even a paying job. Even if he tried, one day a demon would swoop in and destroy it. There was no turning them away, denying them, or escaping them. Only Dean had made him believe they ever could win.

**_Mom's dead, Jess… Dad…. now Dean's dead. All dead for me._**

All of this happened because some demon chose him to be some destined leader of Hell's army. Now, he had nothing to connect him to this world. He supposed in a way, Dean's deal was accepted by the demons so easily to make it easier for him to hate this world and by God he did. Maybe, the demons won after all.

**_Why would I want to save a world that is dead to me!_**

Only the cluttering of some cups broke his thought away, which Bobby balanced carefully. "Want it high octane or diesel?"

"Is there that much of a choice?"

"Nah, think I brew it when Carter or Nixon was president. Still grow hair on your chest."

Sam blinked slowly letting silence take away emotions, thinking of what Dean would want him to do.

"That's a joke son," Bobby jibbed as he put the black coffee in front of Sam before reaching out to grab his shoulder.

"Don't check out on me, boy. Wallowing in guilt like a sow in the mud is pointless. How you doin'?"

"I'm fine." He pulled away, patting his pockets and frowning. "Where's my cell?"

"You're not fine. "Actin' like you aren't….. I mean… uh…Ain't going to make this tracking job any easier."

"I let him get away. I…."

"You pulled back… so did I… it looked like Dean! It was just so hurt I couldn't bring myself to …. To do what I know needed to be done…." Bobby grew a bit quiet and coughed. "We know it ain't a demon now. So, it's something we ain't seen before. We just…Damn I almost believed him…"

"Me too."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I should have…"

"We should have. Guess, I wanted to have him alive so much I couldn't be too hard on the thing…Every time we hit it, it just….just…"

"Seemed too human….Well, his doppelganger is here for a reason and from the looks of him, I'd say he wanted sanctuary from something bigger and badder. Damn sloppy of it to go down in our capture so easily. Then he just shriveled on up- gave up. We took him down too fast."

"We should have interrogated him harder…found out why he needed us so badly…What he wanted! For this to happen… to do this… after… after..."

"It was stupid. We pulled punches, but it looked like it was in such pain...with that kid's face... the way he…" Bobby coughed. "Damn stupid. What good is a lot of Christos when you ain't got the gumption to back 'em?"

Bobby looked up to see Sam. It took a moment to realize the boy was laughing.

"What?"

"Huh… oh... nothing… just… Dean would say….he would…."

"Crack some inappropriate joke."

"Yeah," Sam said with wetness in his eyes. "I could use some of that right now, but it was the Latin. It reminded me of Dean."

"Not much doesn't."

"Dad wanted me to learn Latin or basically else…hmmmm…..and I sucked at it…. He just threw a book at me like I could just regurgitate it without even a simple understanding of it. Dean taught me how to pronounce and memorize it all… He did all my chores so I could study it. I learned it perfectly. …. I thought Dad would never be so proud of me. Then he turned to Dean, asked him to say it. Ended up getting punished for not outshining his little brother….."

**_He always paid to protect me._**

"Dean was special that way- Everyone came first."

Sam spoke with a voice that wasn't soft, but it wasn't normal either." I can still remember how he said each word….. But sometimes I just really need to hear him again…. and that thing…had his voice…." Loss broke his speech like twigs snapping on the fall ground after a preseason ice storm.

"Me too… It was a perfect copy, but we won't hold back next time."

"I can't do that again. It hurts too much. Quick and easy next time." Sam noted.

"No sense in taking any chances. Kill it first and save us all the misery."


	3. Hired Hands

"Whatever it is you want… just get it over with…"

_**Like I care!**_

"Me….I don't want anything, but a certain party wants you six feet under. Said she wants talk to you first." A thin man stepped out of the shadows, followed by a goon twice his size.

**_Fat man and little boy._**

"I think I'll pass, although talking me to death would be a new one. Besides, I haven't been hiding if your myst...…."

"Could have fooled us." A grave, but smooth toned voice accused Dean. "Been looking for ya for half a year. Making us look bad for our boss. Now, be a nice kid and go quietly."

**_Why are they looking for me? Do they know how I came back? Are they responsible?_**

"I've never been much of the quiet type."

"Hmm… I have to insist. We were hired to make sure you'd pay. Someone really wants to see you."

"Have you been watching too many Godfather films….Really who talks like that?! Oh wait... you… and unfortunately, I'm not much on blind dates either. I hear E-harmony has a money back guarantee on that sort of thing."

"She really wants to meet…"

**_She….so is she the one to yank me out of hell… to curse me with being nothing?_**

"Who? Miss America. I told her she shouldn't pose for those photos. She can't blame me for those."

"Funny… heard you were a riot."

"I have my moments. Not so much lately. Does your seeing eye goon talk or just grunt in one or two syllables?"

"Watch it punk. I break people like you without a second thought." The giant grumbled.

"More a man of action. But, where is your compadre? You don't go anywhere without Sam. I hate to settle for the price of one… Especially when he is worth the most…."

**_They don't know I died! They want Sam!_**

"Guess you don't know me well. Kid was cramping my style- lightweight. Haven't seen him for months."

**_What have you got into little bro?_**

"Now that is just plain funny, cause I heard it's a practical yin yang."

"Nah, whatever your beef is…. I'm sure it was all me. You have no idea how Barbara Streisand… people who need people that kid is… you're barking up the wrong show tune." Dean forced himself to say. "Actually I was say people who kill vampires… demons…… are the luckiest people in the world."

"Sam is a killer… just like you… don't pretend. We don't have a problem with that… just doing business. Thing about business is that sooner or later someone has to answer for it."

**_Who did you kill, Sam? What have you got into? I leave you…. Shit, I left you… This is my fault. What happened in all this time!?_**

"Go ahead! Take me. I'm the cold blooded one…. Sam is the patsy… always has been..."

**_Like it matters. They aren't getting Sam. I have to get out of this! Warn him!_**

"If you're looking for a fight, I think I can accommodate. So why don't you tell me what you want and let's get this over with."

"This is justice."

**_Dammit, they aren't playing._**

One thing for certain, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of finding Sam, even if his little brother didn't want him around at the moment.

**_But, how could you blame him. I could be a monster._**

"Let's just say, we have…."

"Stow the bad gangster dialogue from 1954. Just do what you came to do and shut up."

With a growl of rage, the larger goon lunged at him, swinging a monster sized paw with unusual speed. The unknown assailant's intent was obviously clear: kill or be killed. Unease stirred inside, knowing what was coming. At least maybe this time, he wouldn't go to hell.

**_Or I will. Maybe I'm still there!_**

Dean dodged the first punch by backing up, but the second one grazed his chest. The thin man popped him in the nose. Dean responded by smacking a hard left to the man's jaw. He put up his fists, waiting patiently for a moment to escape. Normally, Dean would never run from a fight, and he could usually defeat an enemy easily, but this was different. His mind was in it, but his body was far from top form. Weariness clung to him like a starved mosquito out for a meal. The only issue now was to get out of this and warn Sam. Otherwise, he might not have cared.

**_What do I have left!_**

He blocked another attack as the thin man moved in a sharp downward jab. Quickly, Dean punched a clothesline blow to the man's neck and kneed the giant in the nuts, throwing the big man off balance. Dean jumped up, nailing fat man in the head with an elbow. When his opponent stopped for a minute, stunned, Dean turned around, nailing him hard in the face. Although, Dean showed no external signs of slowing down, he realized he couldn't keep this up forever, which would mean he would end up a bloody, mucky heap, left to rot in some alley.

These men wouldn't go down so easily. Using every skill he had ever learned, some of which he made up on the fly, he dodged their attacks while wondering who these two Cro-Magnons worked for. They were too sloppy to be skilled hunters, but skilled enough to be professional criminals. Though he doubted most people would claim these two to be in the human species, he was certain these thugs were not aided by supernatural means.

**_Hired thugs. But for who?!_**

The duo wasn't pulling any punches. With each swing, the fight grew more intense. Dean struggled like a rabid animal against the big man's form when his foe latched two muscle laden arms around him. His spine felt as though it was cracking in several places, but he didn't feel any bones breaking.

Dean was no match for the bigger one's strength, which allowed the thin man to volley a series of punches rapid like a machine gun to Dean's tender underbelly. The swing in battle, obviously not in Dean's favor, was clear evidence that he wasn't going to win this one- not in his present condition. His opponents weren't going to stop until they spilled Dean's blood, which he was sure those thugs hands had seen murder stains already.

**_I have to keep my eyes open or I won't make it. Sam….Sam has to … must save..._**

Finally after what seemed like an eternity of punishment, Dean felt himself being lifted high above the big man's head where he was shaken like a sloppy Martini. He felt his body whoosh downward, but before he could even register that he was dropped, thin man gripped his collar, hauling Dean halfway to his feet.

His vision horrendously blurred so that he couldn't focus or anything but shades of color on the ground. Dean tried to shake it off, but all of a sudden he was sure he heard a strange howl in the winter air.

A flashing set of lights rounded the bend with a shrill whistle that at this point was welcome in Dean's ears. He would prefer to not explain anything at the police station. Heaven knows he is not a big fan of most cops, but even a warm night in jail would be preferable to the alternative. And if he had just one phone call then his reanimated life might means something.

**_A call to Sam._**

When his new special friends heard the same noise, they dropped him. This time he felt the thud. Not taking time to think, he rolled down the drive, tucking his body in Mr. Peterson drain pipe. As a boy, his mother would find him there more times than not. He took no time to scurry for all his worth into the tube, knowing exactly where it would lead. He just hoped he wasn't seen.

Two uniformed officers stepped out. "Freeze!" They yelled, but Dean didn't stop. He didn't even know who they yelled at. He could hear someone running above him, searching for him. Even hurt, he knew where to go and where to hide until he could safely find a way to get to Sam. This was his family home. He may have been only four when he left here, yet he would never forget everything about this place. He couldn't, not even when he really wanted to. So he moved forward, ignoring pain and injury, just keeping himself alive to do one thing- make sure his brother is safe from whatever mess Sam had gotten into.

The thugs, too, had considered running, but they were forced to flee to the backyard. Dean could have told them that was a fatal error. They should have followed his example and ducked to part unseen. As it were, they made it to the place where Dean's swing set used to be before fate stopped their escape cold. Suddenly, a second cruiser cut off the two men who had been quiet happy in beating Dean a few seconds ago.

"Hold it right there, bo-yos!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… you got it all wrong… it's the guy…. You're letting him escape. Thank god officer, we caught that guy breaking. You need…."

"First time I've heard a collar give me advice. Let's say we sort it all at my place?"

"But the guy."

"Oh, we'll find him… then all of us will have a frank discussion about brawls and disturbing the peace."


	4. Least expected

**_Damn, this hurts._**

One thing for certain, the pain remind Dean how truly alive his body was. Bruises would be sprouting over his back, abdomen, and limbs by now, joining multiple scrapes and cuts on his body. He'd had his share of good beatings in his days, but this one may be on the top. He clutched his midsection as if that could stop the spiking of pain beneath his skin.

Dean wasn't sure how long he crawled around in the storm drain, exiting about 2 blocks from the Lawrence homestead and all the action, or so he hoped. He tucked at this end, listening for signs of traffic, thugs, and the police above him. For hours, Dean curled tight and watched the frozen world, counting shades of gray as the lights faded. Even the newly falling snow took on a tint of soot from his hiding spot. As the time twirled away, Dean couldn't help thinking about the two strangers, his time back upon this earth, and how best to help Sam.

**_Will he shoot me on sight?_**

It was easy to think about how his life truly sucked with all the tarnished examples in his collection of misery. Seriously, it would be hard to just pick one because any one of them was just as pathetic as the next to him. The major issue was that Dean couldn't trust his own judgment anymore.

**_I am me. Right?_**

In what he presumed was his own skin, he was the stranger. In fact, he only trusted one person in this world and the next for that matter. Dean would have once laid his life and sanity on the line for his brother.

**_I always expected him to be there no matter what. Sam should understand. How can he forgive me… what if I am…. Have become….something!_**

He wasn't sure if the shiver that collapsed deep in his spine came from his own shaken thoughts or from the increasing drop in temperature. Either way, he supposed the cops had stopped looking for him long ago. Most flatfoots weren't prone to search for a man involved in a scuffle in the dead of winter.

**_Not like they saw me enough to get a good description._**

He checked the skies once more time and listened closely for any foot traffic before he decided to skitter out. The one good thing was no water running through the drain, but that might have been better than the ice. His boots crisped over a fresh coat of newly fallen snow. It was bitter cold, which was expected, but that didn't have to mean he liked it one bit. He pulled his coat around himself a bit tighter, shivering as his fingers touched his slighter warmer skin within. What he wouldn't give for hot motel at the moment or a shower that was a few notches above skin sheering.

With no money or prospects of getting any that seemed like an almost ridiculous notion. So, he forced himself to walk, hoping for a good halfway house or abandoned building to pop up sooner than later.

**_Where the hell can I go?_**

Not really having any intentions of finding anything uplifting in this world, he just started walking, shifting quickly to keep warm. With each sudden jerk, he found his body unraveled a new thread of pain. After a brief walk, he found himself-or his empty stomach found- the local coffee house. "Lawrence's Best coffee shop" the sign flashed.

_**Best closed coffee shop!**_

"Lawrence" he muttered. He never had much use for his hometown after his mother died. To him the memories might as well have torn the city to bits until it was just a tombstone of a place long cursed. Although, his mother should have been some long forgotten damage, his mind would never forget that day. He guessed Lawrence was just a corpse of former happiness. It seemed to be a fitting image given his current situation.

_**How did all this happen? I had it all planned out. But… Sam … Sam was always the smart one…**_

He was not as much afraid as utterly disheartened by the awful awareness that he didn't know where he was going or what his next move was. The only constant Dean had left was to see Sam safe- not for his mother's dead memory, not for his father's orders, and certainly not because he felt responsible for his little brother. Those things would always be there. This time, he just had to have some connection to this world, no matter how brief.

**_Just to prove to myself I am me._**

He tucked down an alley, flipping open his almost new cellphone to life. So far, it contained two numbers- Sam's and Bobby's, however they were the last people he could see or summon for help. Deciding a face to face with his little brother would end up with Sam not listening and more than likely a quick death, Dean dialed to the last active number he knew as Sam's cell. He didn't mind dying so much, but if he didn't get to warn Sam, his escape seemed a moot point. Anyway, as the connection was made, he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to speak or if he could find the right words.

Didn't have any for him before…. Why should he believe me now? Use to be able beat some sense into my little brother

His brain raked a thousand ways to find a way to scream some words that would make Sam recognize him. Luckily, the phone zipped into Sam's voicemail before he lost his resolve. The words on the line were tortuous and he longed for things to be as they were before.

**_Hell, I'd take things as they were- even as they were a year ago._**

"Sammy…. I….don't….uh…" He sighed. "I…ss…Someone is after you… so just watch your back…Be safe dammit……. I…..Sam….Sammy…please….just…" He said tearfully.

And with that Dean knew he had been wrong, thinking he was entirely dead inside. For all the lackluster drive beating inside of him, he could still feel anguish and loss.

"I'm really alone. All I ever wanted was a family… a home….." His ribs pained as he took in a deep breath.

"Just be okay, please." He shut the cell quickly, not capable of going on. He was never a man of few words. He could jabber about the ridiculous and mundane for nights unending. Still, when it came time to lay certain cards on the line, say what must be said, his mouth closed on him like it was sealed with hot cakey wax. Dean believed that Sam would be fine on his own. He had to believe that. If that wasn't the truth, the worry would gobble any humanity he had left.

**_Sam's better off without me- A man alone can do no wrong._**

Suddenly without warning, something big and black was at his side. For an instant, he let himself believe that Sam was here driving his baby- his Impala.

**_Sammy!_**

But as he turned, he saw a beat up black tinted tour bus pass him going for the last gas station just before the town limits. When the clunky beast hissed to a stop, he began to wonder. Silently, several shadows moved inside the gas station, leaving the bus ripe for the pickings.

From this view point, he didn't have a clear view of what kind of group it was, but a tour bus meant tourist with money. At the moment, starving and beaten, he didn't really care.

He stalked silently, watching intently for movement, as he slithered up the side of the bus to the main door. When the coast seemed clean, he pried the door open. A sudden flash of heater warmth, way hotter than even this temperature warranted, smacked him in his face. The welcome change from the winter air only increased his bravery. He hopped inside, jumping at the first purse he saw.

His fingers rambled in the mess, searching for a wallet or some change purse. Finally he found a billfold, complete with a wad a cash and a license of the oldest looking woman Dean could imagine. She started back at him with flaming, obviously dyed red hair and ten pounds of make-up.

**_Matilda Wiggins? Damn…_**

When he glanced back up, he focused inside the gas station store area, noticing a gaggle of at least six elderly ladies and men. Most of them look about a broken as he felt.

**_Good job, DEAN! Stealing from widows! Next thing I need is to find the orphans!_ **

Perhaps it was his self given moral code, or just pity that made him stop. He had stolen before, but somehow the idea of stealing from big banks and corporations seemed less vile. Sighing, he shoved the billfold back in the bag, slipped to the exit, and jumped off the step straight into a faux alligator hand-bag.

Again the oversized purse, possibly complete with a brick as contents, smacked hard into his face. Soon a gaggle of geriatric defenders were upon him. One of them hit him on the side of the head as he leaned on the bus door. The sensation felt like his head cracking open and Dean promptly fell to the ground. Once down, they proceeded to kick whatever resolve he had left out of him as little as he had. The sheer indignity of how far he had fallen. There really was nothing he could do but lay there and cover his head. Finally, he just stopped moving.

"Serves him right… teach you to mess…" Matilda screamed.

"Young man! You should be ashamed. I hope your grandma pulls off your ears and pickles them." Ernest yelled.

"That's just stupid, Ernest!" A slightly plump, yet spritely woman smarted. Wanda parted the mass of geriatric band, giving them all a stern look.

"No it ain't! We should call the cops!"

"Senile old coot!" A more delicate woman announced, through perched lips, obviously missing a lower set of dentures. Gladys always second Wanda's decision's no matter how lame.

Dean groaned, and tried to roll to a sitting position. Before he had a chance, Ernest bellowed. "Watch out the hooligan is fighting back!"

Just then Ernest decided to poke Dean with his cane, raking it up the young man's spine. His shirt and jacket flew up as the wooden stick dug in. A sudden collective gasp echoed as the little tour group saw the state of Dean's back. Already black and ripped from all he had suffered in his short time in this world. Ignoring the fresh bruises, the young man had deep scars of torture branded upon his skin. Dean hadn't noticed, but he shivered as the bitter air snuck up his shirt, hitching a ride on Angus' cane strike.

"Good LORD!" Curtis said. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Young man you care to explain?" Wanda asked politely, leaning down to pull Dean's shirt. "Ah… look at him... he's froze to the bone and someone done beat that poor boy."

Dean swore the lady had hair that looked like Mrs. Doubtfire with smurf blue hair. The fleshy woman stared into his eyes, giving him a strange glance.

"Leave me…..just…"

I give up. What other indignity could the universe have for me! My ass kicked by 70- year-olds!

"Ah…. He's really hurt."

"Good for him. We done our God given…"

"Ernest Duncan Brewster!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He snapped hearing the tone of her voice.

"Can't you see he needs help...Let's get him on the bus… he's…"

"Wanda, don't you be interfering… He could be a murderer." Curtis spouted as his long white ZZ top beard fluff out with gusto.

"Now who would come out here to find victims? Only thing out here is wood critters. Look at him… you tell me those eyes…"

The smaller woman bent down as the whole gaggle waited on some inspection report from her. She clicked her upper dentures against her tongue and put them promptly put them back in place. "Just like…Nicky…." Gladys said. "Never saw eyes like that since…" Gladys put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I know… I thought so too. We have to help him. Country duty requires…."

"What's going on here!" The bus driver yelled, returning from the toilet, hands still zipping up his fly. Both Gladys and Wanda seemed ill placed by the driver's actions. Of course, Russell Watkins never really did have good sense.

"Young man, that is not polite in do be doing in front of ladies."

"We got any of those!" Ernest offered.

"Yes, or otherwise you would have a slap upside your head." Wanda instructed, giving him a good evil eye stare before she turned her attention back to the driver.

"Simmer down," Russell said, adjusting his cap. "Tell me what happened…"

"Listen, these old bats…"

Gladys smacked Ernest as soon as he spouted words that offended her. "How rude!"

"They want to take this ruffin…"

"We found a hurt man…."

"He was robbing us!" Angus argued.

"I'll call the cops!" The driver commanded.

"Search him. Bet he robbed us all blind!"

"I... I didn't," Dean muttered, trying to stand, finding the two old women helping him up. He tried to push them away, but had little energy to fight even the old and infirmed.

"Search him!" Wanda ordered to the driver. "Russell... you look him over for anything."

Russell patted Dean's pockets, half heartedly, not really wanting to do an extensive search. It would be safe to presume he was uncomfortable enough searching a man, but he had little desire to contradict anything Wanda said.

"See! Help us get him inside…. The bus don't look like much, but she's warm." Wanda tried to drag Dean a few feet.

"Oh no! I ain't ridin' with no criminal. Just cause you like his 'eyes'." Ernest said mockingly.

"Fine… stay here!" Gladys said.

"Leave me alone!" Dean mumbled.

"Now why would we do that?! Russell!" The bus driver snapped to action, supporting Dean now. "Help him inside. We aren't going to leave anyone out here unless it's Ernest. He could use to walk the 50 miles home!"

"Try it you old, witch!"

"Hush up or I'll pickle your ear!" Wanda giggled.

"Alright, let's all calm down. This guy ain't hurtin' nobody anytime soon. Should get him to hospital." The driver yelled.

"No! Leave…"

" I think we can find a place for you." Gladys winked.

"I ain't into anything." Dean muttered, "I…" he almost fell down into the driver's arm like a Southern belle would have swooned in the movies.

"Easy now! Ain't nobody ever disagreed with Wanda and Gladys and lived to tell about it. I ain't about to start."

"No need to be so jaded. Just trying to help ya out. Looks like you are down on your luck." Wanda reasoned as several others mumbled protests, but not loud enough.

You shouldn't have sympathy for the devil. Maybe that's what I am.

"Cutie pie… get your silly ass on up there. Holy for the Love of God. "Gladys ordered, but the driver was already jerking and hauling the slow moving Dean on.

"You can sit by me." Gladys offered.

"Just watch her hands!" Ernest smarted.

"Do you want to pick your prostate out of the mud?" Wanda warned.

"He's kidding. You pay him no mind, dear. We'll sit here and you can stretch out right in the first seat. Why don't you just lay down?"

Not that he had much choice or fight left in him now, but Russell placed in a cushioned lied seat. Soon he was covered by a lacy old woman sweater.

"I still say he was up to…" Curtis warned.

"Hush up…. Can't you see he's tired? Poor boy." Gladys coaxed.

"One day you're strays are going to bite you…" Ernest returned the glance she gave him earlier.

"Funny, I was just going to tell you to bite me…" Wanda shouted and almost everyone on the bus laughed, besides Ernest.

"He would, but then his dentures would be attached to your ass cheek."

"We'll he is used to being an asshole, so it makes sense part of him would want to hang around his own kind."

For a second Dean wondered if he was imagining this whole thing. These didn't sound like any old people he knew or even could imagine. Before he could process it any further, his mind slumped over to sleep with him realizing it.


	5. Perplexed

When Dean awoke, sun hanging high in the sky outside a single window, he found himself utterly alone, welcomed only by a cool, plastic, and squishy sensation over his left eye and the overpowering smell of pungent mothballs . Quickly, he pulled the obstacle from his view, finding what use to be a frozen bag of peas.

**_I hate PEAS._**

Looking around, he couldn't see anything familiar, but he had seen furniture like this millions of times in rundown motels. He wouldn't call them antiques by any means, just rotten and old. There was an equally ancient wood burning stove shoved into the tightest of corners, sending pitches of burned black up the paisley covered wallpaper. The soot clogged his throat dry. At the moment, he didn't mind the much needed warmth soaking to his bones, even if he didn't know where he was exactly, how he got here, and if he was in any danger.

He stretched a bit more and discovered he had been placed on a rather hard couch. Either he must have been exceedingly tired or the multitude of blankets around him made for a cocoon of comfort.

**_It seems safe. Now what I have I got into?_**

His jaw felt a bit unhinged and he wiggled it to test if it was still in place. Considering what had happened in the time since he came back, he was surprisingly spry.

"Never thought I'd lay hands on one again." A female voice said in the next room.

**_HANDS ON WHAT!_**

Rising, Dean noticed he was dressed in dated threads that probably hadn't seen the light of day since the 70's and they were in poor taste even then. Orange definitely wasn't his color. At least he knew the source of the mothball odor- HIM. For a brief second he wondered where his own clothing had gone.

**_Does everyone get me naked when I get knocked out?_**

"You know those things scare me when they are so big." a softer voice noted.

He thought it best to try to sneak out, trying the window only to find it painted shut by at least 100 layers of latex in what looked like an assortment of colors. The glass panes tinted by numerous application splotches that were never cleaned. The only means of exit seemed to be the direction he heard the voices. The idea of going in seemed disturbing, but an equally haunting and enticing odor of food also came from it.

"Did it have to be so big?" The new voice added.

It was then that Dean began to seriously wonder what had happened during his unconsciousness.

"Ever since Rodger found me outside with Mr. Jenkins…."

"Please, Jenkins had a peashooter! Tiny damn thing....

"Now, stir the cooking for me....If he knows what's good for him, he'll be a good boy. Just seems a bit lost to me, but I am ready if he gets friskier than we expect. I can still handle this baby like I was 16."

"Did you add the salt? Make sure the aim is up when you play with..."

"I'm not about to let it go off in my face... Land Sakes!"

"Do you think he'll be…"

"No, dear, but just think what we could have done with something like this back in my younger years."

"No man in the county would he safe!"

Without a second thought, Dean glanced down uncomfortable with the notion they were discussing him. At this point, he was ready to confront his would be hostesses.

**_God, they sound like women... let them be women!_**

He bolted into the room, opening his mouth to protest as the door swung open. Instead, he only found Wanda holding an antique gun.

"Easy now. I can use this if I have to…"

"She was the regional champion 12 times running. Every boy in county was afeared of her." Gladys offered as she stirred a large simmering pot. The table was littered with dirty rags used to clean the old Winchester rifle she held in her hands. Although, Dean couldn't tell what era it came from. So it was older than his knowledge of weaponry.

"Scared, dear."

"Nope. They were so scared of you they had to make a new name for it."

Dean sighed, more in relief than anything. At least he wasn't molested by the elderly as he slept. "You might want to put that down. As old as it is..."

"Do you have something wrong with old!"

"No, I … I just…"

"Good Lord, I hope he doesn't take after Ernest!" The frailer looking woman uttered turning off the stove.

"Funny, the boy doesn't look like a shit weasel." Wanda suggested.

"Whoa… whoa… who's Ernest… where am I? Who the hell are you?"

"Don't make me get soap!" Gladys warned.

Leaning his head in his hands, Dean groaned, sucking in an incredulous amount of air to maintain calm before he tried to speak again.

**_I don't need this. I just want to be left alone._**

"Oh no, he is worse than we thought." Wanda informed her sister.

"You should rest more."

"I think I rested enough… I'm fine." he gave them a pointed stare.

"You weren't fine for almost two days… Slept like the living dead." Gladys tapped the pot in rhythm with her speech.

"Living dead don't sleep. Can we just put the gun down…or not point it at me?"

"I warn you…. Our hospitality should not be taken for stupidity." She raised the gun a bit higher.

"I never said you were stup...." Recognizing a lost cause when he saw one, Dean dismissed the old ladies as unwittingly annoying. Two hapless old souls who may mean well but had the reasoning skills of a gnat. "Uh...Where am I?"

"No… if we answer your questions you have to answer ours." Gladys demanded.

"Fine!" He gruffed.

**_What else... WHAT ELSE COULD HAPPEN TO ME!_**

"Watch your tone." Wanda said, aiming the gun down at her side.

"Where am I?"

"Franklin…. Our farm house." Gladys beamed with pride. "Papa left it to us."

"That's about 45 minutes from Lawrence?" He asked.

"Yes." The other woman offered. "Now, perhaps you will tell us what you were doing out there..."

"Out where? Lady, I have no idea how I got on that couch..."

"What were you doing in the cold- half frozen and half beaten?"

**_Dying._**

"Walking...uh... car broke down."

"That doesn't sound too smart." Wanda said.

"Depends on who you ask."

"Looked like running to me." Wanda said.

"Yeah, we are good judges of character..." Gladys agreed.

"Are you running from the army or some other branch?"

"No... Why would...How did I get here?"

"We brought you. You were so hurt and you just refused to go to a hospital."

"I use to be an army nurse in the Korean War." Gladys explained.

"Conflict dear, we never declared a real war. So, she felt it was okay once we checked you over."

"Seemed real to me." Gladys noted.

"I know. Bad thing are always too real." She glanced at her older sister with sympathy and then back to Dean.

He sighed again, trying to make sense of how he went from supreme danger to this triviality. Yet, he knew danger never really went away, it just lived to drop the bottom from under you. "Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but I should be off."

"Who beat you?" Wanda asked

"Some guys…"

"Did they rob you... you had no money so we presumed that was why…" Gladys alternated the next question, making Dean glance between the two.

"Yeah, are you alone? Can we call your family?"

"I have no family."

**_For Christ's sake! SHUT UP!!!! Haven't I done enough! Given enough! Can't I even find peace even on my own?_**

"No family... how sad." Wanda mused.

"We're the last of our family... Sisters….."

"How nice… I have to go."

Giving her would be patient a stern stare, Gladys prepared her next diagnosis. "He seems anxious- he need's persimmon wine."

"I'm not anxious!"

"At least eat something." She recommended next.

"Yes, we made Burgoo."

**_What the hell is burgoo?_**

"And hers is the best in the state." The thinner sister offered.

Hearing the compliment, Wanda beamed with pride. She gave Dean a careful visual inspection as if she was making sure he was good enough for her home cooking. "And Gladys helped..."

"Oh silly me.... I'm Gladys... and she's Wanda. The Tuckerson sisters."

"Okay.... What's the best way out of town?"

The younger sister gave Dean a stare. Finally, Wanda spoke instead. "Young man, it's only polite to offer a name when introduced."

**_OH JESUS!_**

"DEAN!" He said a bit loudly, and then tried to get softer. "My name's Dean."

"Oh, he looks like a Dean."

"I think he looks like a Johnny."

Dean drew inside himself, thinking of his father as the name danced in the air, swirling around inside his mixed up brain.

"She thought you looked like a Kyle." Wanda added after she said her name choice. Ohh.....We should draw an Epsom salt bath to help with those aches."

"I don't need a bath."

"Dear, I know you are man, but...." Wanda started.

Then both ladies spoke at once. "YOU DO INDEED NEED A BATH."

"Dinner first!" Spritely, Gladys muttered her command.

He was about to say he wasn't hungry, but his stomach growled like a grizzly stuck in a bottomless pit.

"See you are hungry."

"I'm not... I have to go."

"Heavens, maybe he has diarrhea!" Wanda wondered.

"I'll get the blackberry brandy."

"I don't have… "Dean huffed in frustration. "I don't have any problems. You don't understand I have to go…"

"That my dear is diarrhea..."

"NO! I have to go... GO AWAY..."

Go where?" Giving him an almost ridiculous stare to dare Dean to question her authority, Wanda wore an expression to not contradict her. No one could ever get anything over her when Wanda gave them that look.

"You said you had no family… where do you hope to go?"

"Do you two just kidnap strangers of the street?"

"Actually happens a lot… Remember Michael…"

"Ahhh… he was such a sweetie…" Gladys smiled.

"Yeah, but he laughed like an asthmatic weasel."

"You don't laugh like any animal do you?"

"Uh…no… I have to…"

"Good! Now sit down! Wanda, get the whiskey instead."

That sounded like a better idea than Burgoo. Dean could use a whiskey so strong it should walk over to him and slap him in the face. Not that he had much choice as Gladys was maneuvering him towards a kitchen table.

"I think I can manage." Dean tried to pull away, but Gladys was strong for a frail looking woman. Without another word, she pushed him straight into a chair at the kitchen table.

**_THAT'S IT!_**

He banged his hands on the table ready to let loose anger at the absurdity of this situation.

**_I came back from hell! My life is a mess and two lonely bats are sent to drive me crazy!_**

Slamming his fist again, he perched his mouth to volley forth a slew of demands. This time things were going to go his way, even if he had to pound the table to get the women to listen.

"Careful. You'll hurt yourself. I think being beat three times was enough."

"What… how did…" Frustration aside, his suspicious grew.

"Oh... don't be so perplexed you told us... silly goose..."

**_WHAT DID I TELL THEM!_**

"Here's the aged Whiskey… it should make you feel much better." Wanda said.

"Now you eat up and we'll collect your things for you. The bus station is on the way to town."

"What?"

"You said you had to go…"

"You finish one hot meal and we'll take you right into town." Gladys offered.

"Oh. . .and a bath!"

"I'm fine...I really need to go now..."

"Shh... dear, our soaps are coming on..." Gladys switched the dial on the small television on the counter and the Days of our Lives theme began to play. Suddenly, a large bowl of Burgoo slid in front of him and neither woman paid him or his protests any more attention.

* * *

"Press one to repeat this message… press two..." Sam stopped the prompt mid instructions.

"Sammy…. I….don't….uh….I…ss…Someone is after you… so just watch your back…Be safe dammit…….I…..Sam….Sammy…please….just… I'm really alone. All I ever wanted was a family… a home…..Just be okay, please."

_**I should have told you…been better- saved you.**_

"Press one to repeat this mes..."

"Sammy…. I….don't….uh….I…ss…Someone is after you… so just watch your back…Be safe dammit……I…..Sam….Sammy…please….just… I'm really alone. All I ever wanted was a family… a home…..Just be okay, please."

**_I shoulda saved you._**

"Press one to rep..."

"Sammy…. I….don't….uh….I…ss…Someone is after you… so just watch your back…Be safe dammit……I…..Sam….Sammy…please….just… I'm really alone. All I ever wanted was a family… a home…..Just be okay, please."

"Press..."

"Sam!" Bobby hollered.

He knew he was busted, but he really didn't feel like explaining nor was he about to justify how he's feeling.

**_It's my damn brother's voice! I know it's not real! But it is to me! It's him.... I can't do this!_**

He wasn't sure how many times, he had listened to the message, but he knew exactly how long the call took: 21.5 seconds- 21.5 seconds of words with Dean's voice. Worse, he had timed how many things he could in that time.

**_Open 10 beers, click a pen 78 times, speed through the alphabet five time, quote an entire exorcism, field strip a gun._**

"Any luck!" Bobby bellowed, noticing Sam's distance. He knew the message was seeping into Sam's mind like a fog growing thicker by the moment because he wanted to believe it was Dean too. The longer they suffered through this; he knew that desire would only get worse. He couldn't afford that. Losing Dean again, even a fake one would likely kill what was left of both he and Sam.

A cough arose from deep within Sam's lung, but he pretended he was blinking away the debris and remnants of a demolished book, left in ill repair by years of bookworm infestation. He hadn't really read the pages, but it seemed like the logical thing to do. When all else failed, Dad had told him to turn to research.

"Sorry, been a while since I cleaned up in here." Bobby offered, but Sam wasn't really in the chatty mood.

"Nothing... you?"

"You find anything in that message?" Bobby asked knowing well that wasn't the reason for Sam listening to it over and over, but he had to find a way to pull Sam away from it. Bobby had poured over a multitude of dusty volumes of lore, searching for anything that could explain the mirror image of Dean. Another day wasted with just as much lost insight- only just a vague notion.

"Nothing...just..."

"Well, I think we can rule out demon and shape shifter since we done failed with those. Found an interesting notion on wraith."

"I thought wraith were spirits…"

"Can be, but they can be tangible too. It's an apparition of a once living being. The wraith is a being of power, controlled by a bigger creature's will."

"Like a slave."

"Not quite… sorta like a zombie without the mind. If that is what we are dealin' with, then…"

"Dean's still gone."

**_No… please God…. He doesn't deserve hell._**

"Sorry, son. Seems we might have a body hijacking on our hands. I …We do have another option. In European pagan beliefs, the wraith is a spirit of vengeance. They consist of pure revenge. Most of them are so angry they just destroy anything they come across.

Before Sam could have another thought, his cell began to vibrate and ring in his hand. He jumped to answer, clicking it open before the first ring could begin.

**_Dean!_**

"Bobby!" Rufus ordered more than asked on the other end before Sam took a breath.

"No… Sa…"

"Hand the phone over to Bobby."

Knowing it was ill advised to argue, Sam passed the phone, mouthing the name Rufus to him.

**_Heartless Bastard Rufus._**

"Whatcha got for me!"

"Little over a few days ago, a police description was sent out over the scanner. Nothing much, just a bit of a brawl." Rufus said in a tone that contradicted he had found something of value.

"Hmm… not really…"

"Right in front of the Winchester home in Kansas. Got 2 in custody. Strange thing is, one of them got away. A man fitting Dean's description. The police were on the lookout but dropped the ball when they pulled up the other two's records. Career criminals..."

"None of that makes sense."

"I just find the info. I don't get paid to make sense of it. But I tell ya, it doesn't sound like no shapshifter."

"Yeah, it's a new one on us too- maybe be a wraith"

"Interesting thought. Think Sam has it in him to kill one. You know that thing took Dean's body."

"Yeah…… I know…"

"You think he'll be able to burn it alive? Those boys don't have the balls to waste one another. He may chicken out."

"Got to find it first, but I promised Dean, I'd..."

"Suit yourself, I'll expect…"

"Already on its way." Bobby didn't wait for a response, but tossed the phone back to Sam.

"Bad or worse news…"

"Strange news."

"What's wrong?"

"There was police report….right outside your home. Seems three idiots got into it and one escaped."

"World's gone crazy"

"Yeah, but the description matches Dean."

"Why would…"

"Seen evil do strange ass things, but that's a new one- Brawling when it has the power…."

"What did you mean, you promised Dean."

"Fore he died, he asked me to keep an eye on ya and not let you do anything stupid for him."

"Like he did."

"Always did have more heart than sense...Stupid kid... stupid..."

"I hate to ask, but… I won't be able to…. I can't…."

"I'll do it for you." Bobby took on the responsibility with a heavy heart, but he knew this would push Sam one step over the edge.

"No, if it has to be done... I'll do it. I just... I want proof Bobby...."

"That didn't work for us before. Flip floppin' on killing or not killing this thing isn't going to help us."

"That was before..."

**_Dean called. I know it has to be him... has to... just once... it has to be._**

"Before that call..."

"I ignored it before...but I have to know... "

**_I should be able to see my own brother- tell the difference... I did once.... a shape shifter couldn't fool me..._**

"This thing is good. Dean...."

"We keep calling it Dean. We both do and that message... it..."

"I know...it almost killed me too. Just the right..."

"We have to be sure. I can't wonder all my life..."

"The reason you feel Dean is that it's piggybacking his body. We have to torch it and be done with it. Look, I know you wanted Dean to come back and wanted to find a way for that to happen, but this is why hunters cremate...I just.... we have to..."

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you..."

"Hmmppphhhh...Both."

"In any case, I want to know what bastard took over and find out why. If he can bring back the flesh, he can surely pull Dean back."

"Don't promise yourself something we can't make happen."

**_I'll make it happen. I swear I'll make it happen!_**

"Somethin' ain't sitting well in my crawl either, but if it comes down to saving you or that thing...I won't think twice."

"You're already thinking twice." Sam informed him, knowingly.

"I won't break that promise, Sam. Not for anything in this world. Dean wouldn't ask us to."


	6. Fray

Darkness- pure, pitch black, desolate, depravation darkness. Whenever Dean closed his eyes he tried to find a place safe enough in his head. A place so devoid of shapes and sounds it could almost be nonexistence. A luxury forever gone from his time in hell. He didn't remember exactly, but he saw things just beyond the limits of his vision. A moving shadow turned into something sinister that wasn't really here, but forever with him. He could run like the devil, but never really be alone. It was like every once and a while a image would come to him as if his mind was on a DVD loop of perpetual repeat right in the middle of the most blood, horrid, and terrifying mess.

The cool dampness of his hand raced through his hair as Dean drifted aimlessly in the bathwater, trying desperately to relax enough to float like he could do when he was just a boy. He never told anyone, of course, but sometimes when things were the craziest, and face it- that was fairly often, he would turn the water to boiling, fill a tub to almost the top, and pretend he was back in Lawrence floating in Jimmy Rucker's swimming pool.

**_Man that pool drove Mom crazy._**

More often than not back then, Dean thought his backside was a goner, but Mary just smiled, gave him a stern look, telling him he could get away with murder around her, and just sighed like she was glad he was safe. His mother had always seemed uptight about keeping him safe, like she looked over her shoulder for some shadow or whisper that wasn't there.

**_Just like me now._**

It was only today he noticed this about her and he wondered if maybe she had some natural instinct to know what would happen to her children in just a short time after that.

He sank lower, letting his chin dip inside, but not submerging fully. Not as much for relaxation, but he would go stir crazy if he didn't move- do something- other than- That was the problem he didn't know exactly what he was doing or where to go from here.

He supposed he could hunt. He had the skills after all, but the drive for that was long gone. He had nothing left to fight for and no reason for the cause. Before it had been to right some wrong done to his family.

**_That's who I am! But, who am I now? It's always been about what Dad wants- Sam needs- Mom's memory. I have none of that now. Have I ever done a single thing that is just me? Has there ever been a decision that was mine that mean a damn thing! Last time I had my own life was when I was four!_**

The skin around his toes and fingers had even begun to wrinkle as he had reeled in these thoughts for so long. Shivering as soon as he stood, Dean jumped out of the now cold water. He had forgotten the time as he sat in the claw foot tub and the liquid passed the point of tepid long ago. In truth, he wanted to feel the comfortable numbness of unapologetic apathy. It was easier than feeling anything else.

**_It all hurts too much... so different._**

Maybe this was how it was meant to be. The penance for his devil deal was to experience a little nibbling slice of death everyday until the end of time. Still, here in the old farmhouse, it was hard to even believe that any of it was possibly happening. Try as he might, he wouldn't admit the old ladies had been right about his aching body and a hot bath, not that he was ready to say anything made him feel better.

**_Do I deserve kindness?_**

But by God, he wanted it. Under all the lies, pain, remnants of his time in hell, he was that little four year old seeking some small smidge of love and connection. With all his heart, whether he admitted or not, he liked the idea of being treated as a human-normal. To say the sisters were normal was a stretch by any means, but being welcome was unexpected to say the least.

Wrapping in an oversized towel and jerking on the new set of clothes they had provided for him, Dean sucked in a disgusted breath. These were just as pathetic looking, but they were freshly cleaned and lacked the added touch of mothball odor.

**_This is better._**

As soon as he finished, he found his way to the kitchen, hoping to at least get directions into the main part of own. He thought he could recall Franklin, thinking his Dad's old softball team played here once. This had to be the place his father fed him those four hotdogs, promptly giving him the first stomach ache Dean could remember.

**_They were freaking good! Damn, Sam wasn't even born yet. One day, I'll get one of those dogs for Sam._**

As soon as he thought it, his heart sank. All his life, he continually made plans for ways to include his little brother, show him the ropes, or just give him one hellva good time.

**_Not much point in planning any future now._**

When he wandered back into the kitchen, he noticed his keepers were gone.

**_Maybe leaving is easier this way._**

He vaguely heard their voices outside, but not with a clarity that he could determine what they were discussion.

**_Bullshit most likely._**

As silly as the old bats were, they were fairly friendly, harmless, and seemed to mean well. He might have even liked them before, but things were different for him now. Even the small comforts felt undeserved. For this reason, he was glad not to have the sisters barraging him with chatter and questions in tones that would make a smurf puke. Positive he was alone, he sighed, relieved that he didn't find himself on another end of not getting a word in edgewise.

He did however find the stew pot with a smidgeon still left in the bottom. He wondered if he could sneak the scraps without his new found den mothers noticing. Last thing he wanted was an I told you so. With his index finger, Dean plunged into it, cleaning the last bits. He didn't know what Burgoo exactly was, but it looked to him to be some sort of very thick, artery clogging vegetable soup, not that he was complaining.

Quietly he pulled the cool cookery from the stove, finding the oven blazing with heat. He stood there, letting the rising warmth dry the dampness from his skin as he finished off all the stew. As he literally licked the pot clean, Dean glanced out an almost frost covered and equally paint splattered window, finding the sisters outside as they attempted to cut a load of fire wood with varying levels of success.

**_They can't seriously think they can use that ax! HELL! These gals are dangerous. Texas Chainsaw Geriatric Massacre!_**

He walked down a small hallway, found the outside door, and sprinted towards the sisters.

"Hey... hey... uh... should you be doing that?"

"If we want to stay warm then yes." Wanda said.

"You may be accustomed to freezing but we have a smidge of sense about such things."

"I'm ready to go now… Maybe you can get some in town already cut..." When Wanda gave him the death stare again, he quickly changed the subject. "Uh...uh...hey what's in that stew?"

"Vegetables, onions, spices, mutton."

"Mutton?"

Wanda chuckled. "Sheep, dear."

He knew what mutton was, he just couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dean turned a sickly shade of green, realizing he just ate a sheep."

"Oh, he looks ill. Maybe he has an infection. We'll need to get some eggs out." Gladys ordered like a physician in an operating room.

"God, what are you going to do with that!?" He asked.

"The inside of eggshells wards off infection…. We slather you down so you won't get sick."

**_NOT THIS DRIVEL AGAIN!_**

"I'm fine. Just never wanted to eat sheep!"

"What do you want to do with sheep, dear?" Wanda asked loaded.

**_UGHGHHGHG_**

"Uh… uh nothing."

"Very well... Then in turn, I suppose one must eat them then."

Announcing quite proudly, Gladys gave Wanda a grin. "My turn." She then promptly took the ax and started chopping wood worse than her sister.

"Whoa... hold up… you're really going to hurt someone."

"We'll it has to be done." Gladys defended.

"And my lupis keeps me from doing it too long." Wanda explained.

Even though Dean could swear Lupis was a character from that Harry Potter flick Sam watched the night Dean hurled after some bad clams, he was equally afraid to ask the sisters exactly what that was. One thing for certain, he didn't want to know. "Hey…. Give that to me..."

"It's not contagious dear."

"I mean the ax."

"You're hurt, you can't be chopping firewood. And it is my turn."

"Give it to me before you hurt yourself! I'm fine. Here let me."

"If you say so. I'm not one to argue." Gladys said.

**_ALL YOU DO IS ARGUE!_**

As the ax swung high above Dean's head, the sisters backed away slightly, giving each other a small grin.

"Whoa... he is very good at that."

"Yes, you did extremely well in patching him up."

"Trick is the saffron....works every time... add a pinch."

To Dean it sounded like the used him to plant a garden or were ready to dress him up like a Christmas ham, but he just kept splitting the wood. His body ached, but it felt almost pleasant doing something. After all, he guessed that he did owe them for a nights lodging or two.

**_The sheep soup I ain't paying for!_**

"Where do you want it?" he asked.

"Oh, just on the other side of the house by the barn. We'll have some pecan pie ready for you when you finish."

"Oh, and the ice cream on the hot pie." Gladys said. "We have ice cream don't we?"

"Of course. Did I tell you about Myrtle and Marge..."

"No! What happened!"

"Well, it seems they lost what was left of their good sense and decided to storm Hollywood. Broke into this hot young thing's trailer. Scared the boy witless."

"At least he was in witless company with those two."

"They kept yelling Twista Sista all the way to booking..."

"Just shameful!"

_**HOLY CRAP! The women are crazy! And nosey! Wonder if they are senile? Shouldn't someone be taking care of them!**_

As they walked away, Dean rolled his eyes at the silliness and he didn't even notice as a smile trying desperately to crack on his face. It never surfaced, not at the moment.

The sisters continued exchanging meaningless nonsense about pies, herbs, or some other drivel, while he ignored them and worked on. When they were out of ear shot Wanda turned to Gladys. "You think it's working?"

"I'd say we wiggled in under his skin just a bit. You know how proud men are at any rate."

"They do have a small container to store their brain in and most of the time they have to drop their pants to let it see light of day." With that Wanda gave her sister a small hidden high five to congratulate them on a job well done.

"Let him work some of those walls off."

* * *

"You're sure it was this man?" a young woman, roughly old enough to be out of college, asked, giving Russell a questioning eye.

"Sure thing. Dropped him off in Franklin. Got to say Miss Wanda and Miss Gladys ain't going to like takin' in a deadbeat papa. Tuckersons are a might bit odd. He most likely moved on. Know I would."

"Sound like fine ladies." She noted sarcastically.

"Sure are. Cantankerous, ornery. They may have killed him by now with home remedies. One time they snuck up on me with a pole cat, telling me the scare of being close to one would get rid of warts. He probably ran for the hills, if we had any for him to hide in." The bus driver chuckled nervously. "Well... but, anyway, it's a start for you."

"I'm sure once Dean understands I just want to set things right, he'll come along quietly without argument. I do have ways."

"I sure hope so," Russell offered, not really hoping for anything but a good beer. "You must have been that Sam he kept talking about….kept saying he was sorry…"

"He did? Wow… what did he say he was sorry about?"

"Nothing much….just mumbled all the way into Franklin- half out of it. Said Sam hated him.... knew he would be coming to get him… didn't make no sense…..until now….guess, he knew his old lady wasn't far behind."

"Sounds like him. If you see Dean again, please don't spook him. The kin folks are going to make sure he understands he has certain responsibilities. Thanks for the assist."

"No problem lady."

As the young woman walked away, she smiled. Where one Winchester was, the other had to be nearby. For some strange reason the brother had separated and that wouldn't do. What was the point of revenge on Sam, if he didn't get to see every gut crunching moment of it? With a direct line on Dean's whereabouts, all she had to was get her claws in one and manipulate the other to follow.

Failure was definitely not an option and after all this time she deserved to dish out a portion amount of pain. She didn't mind if her hired hands rotted in jail forever. They were merely means to an end. Her father had always spouted the old adage of doing something for yourself. Too bad he never got to see his lesson in action, solely because of Sam Winchester.

Sam couldn't escape; she'd make sure of it. And once she took the thing that was most precious to him, she would leave him in that utter devoid of pain. A maniacal excitement filled her soul with dark lust. If only her father could see her, he wouldn't recognize the psychotic woman in place of his bright-eyed girl. She cared little for reason, content with the insanity, knowing full well the twisted corners in her mind. Soon, she would find what she wanted and no one would ever stop her.

All that remained was making sure Sam was around to see it. With him on Dean's trail, little brother wouldn't be far behind.

She cracked open her phone, dialing with a strange glee on her face. "Put the word out. Anyone looking for Dean Winchester should check out the coffee shop on Oakhurst. Payment after I have Dean in small bits."

* * *

Wanda watched as Dean slammed through massive log after log, sure the young man's mind wasn't on the excessive manner in which he split the screaming, protesting wood. "Boy works like he's on a mission."

"Has he stopped yet? It's getting late in day to be..." Gladys handed her a warm cup of tea.

"Hush, let him be."

Truly, Dean's mind wasn't really on the actions he was doing, but on nothing and everything at the same time. Desperately, he tried to listen to the sound of the ax as it swished through the air, slamming into the log piece, ripping it open with cracking. Over and over. The sound stirred deep inside of him and he flinched. At first he brushed if off, but after a couple more swings, he jerked, dropping to his knees.

The winter world was lost to him and his ears rang with the clacking of what sounded like chains and gears. A heat so thick it was like being trapped inside a steel plant's furnace, banging to get out. Suddenly, a chorus of voices moaned in unending pain, screaming pleas to anyone that would listen. Souls called out to a God who abandoned them.

All the voices were splinters to his heart, digging in deep, rooting and festering. He began to struggle and a demon pulled him back, slamming a sharp hook in his shoulder blade, forcing him to look at the flood of other souls around them.

"This is what you get human."

The creature slammed a fist into Dean's back and began beating him. He gasped, anticipating death.

"Stupid hunter. You're dead. You don't get to escape!"

His body jerk with shock like he was suffocating and he had to straighten to breathe. His heart pounded and he shook so hard from fear it was as if all he had become a frightened child, looking for a way to escape the dark.

"Dean..."

"SAM! Help me, SAMMMY!" He screamed.

"Are you okay, dear? Come on now." Wanda pulled Dean into her arms grabbing him tightly, but he didn't see her.

He lay gasping for air and fighting to remember how long he had suffered. The demon knelt at his side once more. He gripped Dean's hair and pressed his mouth near his ear.

"Almost there. There's a long line of us waiting to punish you, and we have all the time of eternity to do it."

"Let me GO!"

"Dean!" Gladys yelled, holding his flailing arms. "Come now, just take it easy and lay here for a moment."

Finally, he snapped back to reality, knowing he caught a fully realized glimpse into the torture he endured in hell. Sucking in a deep breath, his arms spun around like a drowning man reaching out for salvation. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"You're okay. It happens. It's just a flash..."

"Let go of me!" He demanded.

"You're okay... safe..."

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"I think we do..."

"What makes you think you know me! You're just too old broads with nothing better to do than stick your nose in other peoples' lives. YOU KNOW NOTHING! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He pushed Wanda's hand off him and took off without any sense of direction, hoping to escape the inescapable. But this fight was far from over. Running was all he had done, feeling like nothing more than prey to his own insides, a foe he couldn't defeat. Worst, it seemed the more he ran, the closer he came to that darkness inside of him.

"He's just eat up with it."

"Poor boy." Gladys agreed.

"What war do you think?

"Iraq… had to be …. So lost."

"Prisoner..."

"Hmmmmm.... men made to do things no one should ever...we have to help him."

"He may not want it. Seems the type..." Gladys pulled at the fringe of her dress. "I know you want to because of Mac, but..."

"You heard him he doesn't have family. No one to break that... I've seen that look in his eyes before, he's lost..."

"But, he did mutter all that stuff when he was sleeping.... And he just called for Sam again? Someone in his unit?

"I don't care...something has to be done. Time to pull the big guns." Wanda muttered.


	7. Opening

The swirls of bright orange splattered over the polyester curtains made Bobby's eyes cross. Simultaneously, he closed the thick plastic coated shades as well as his eyelids. Yet, his actions had less to do with privacy, then the need to be active in the situation. After a draw out sigh and reopening of his eyes, he tempered the questions in his own mind, ready to be strong for Sam's sake. Secretly, he hoped his strength would somehow find a way to be for Dean's sake too. As he turned he spied his dress suit, wrinkled and faded. Truly uninspiring. "Damnation, I ain't gettin' in with that. I'll have to pick up a new one before we hit Lawrence. "

"Told you that last time you yanked that relic out," Sam noted. "You could iron it you know… you and Dean… slobs…" He grew quiet.

"Sam?"

"Nothing….. It's nothing."

**_I bet I could get half finished with the suit in the time it took Dean to call. That's all the time I had with Dean. He was with me and I..._**

"Finally got an in on the two chuckleheads found outside your house. Still in central holding waiting to be arraigned." Bobby intruded on Sam's thoughts

"You think they really fought Dean? Seems unlikely a creature would be so obvious." His voice rose up in pitch like childlike wonder.

"I've given up on figuring out the reason why evil does anything."

"How you gettin' on?" Bobby asked in a flat tone, leaving it up to Sam to interpret just what he was asking about.

"Fine… I'm fine."

That was enough for Bobby to know that Sam was far from okay. There was little need for reasoning at the moment and he knew any words about the Dean subject might as well be hot air. Sam wouldn't rest until he had proof- definitive proof- that the thing they tracked was Dean or not Dean. All Bobby could think of is that they were chasing a ghost of Dean- a thought of what they wanted to believe when all they had left was the corpse of the man. All that he loved about the kid was long gone. "You ready for this… we'll be hitting Lawrence tomorrow morning. You haven't been listening to that message anymore?"

Truthfully, he had, but he had hid it better the last few days, working it in when he called out for takeout or called a contact for information.

**_How can I tell him all I have of Dean is 21.5 seconds? It isn't enough._**

"Uh…No…. I thought it best to keep it in case we could hear anything in the background, but… But, I got a trace on that call. It was pinpointed to Lawrence. Managed to sweet talk..."

**_Charmed it out of the company in less than..._**

"You... …huh….. sweet talk… you boys better get over using your looks to get by…later on you'll…" Bobby stopped realizing he was still including Dean in the mix.

**_I miss him too, Bobby. I'll find a way to get the real Dean back._**

"Yeah… well... she gave me a location of a cell tower… Mapped the area last night. It's near a coffee place, some shops, a hair place, and gas station. The tower's on East and Oakhurst.

"You hope someone has seen him or he stopped for a haircut while following demon plans?"

"Worth checking out."

"I'm more interested in the two morons the police have in custody." Bobby leafed through a long list of rap sheets on both men. "While the police see the last crime as little more than good ole boys getting pissed off at each other, they're both being held for other crimes. Seems the cops can't find the other man involved in the fist fight…"

"No one to press charges…"

"Jackson Riley and Hugo Lynch..."

"He looks like a Hugo…" Sam pulled the mug shot copy from Bobby's hands, glaring at the giant man in the photo.

**_You'll pay for what you've done to Dean._**

"Yeah, well these two are bad news and it don't sit well they were messing outside of your home."

"We'll check those two out and head over..."

"No… I want you out of sight. That call…"

**_It was Dean! You believe me! Why can't we believe it…. Don't we deserve it… deserve something right in this world._**

"You said it wasn't true!"

"Even if it ain't, I don't take changes. Not with family." Shoving his hand in his pocket, he tried to quell the remorse down into the dingy crevice of his faded jeans. "If they were... heck, are after you, I don't plan on handing you over. If this is a trap, they didn't send me a message with my brother's dead voice…. I am not ready to…"

"I could buy you a bow and some gift wrap."

"Don't start smartass." Bobby knew Sam's mood has less to do with being happy, but being close to the trail and thinking he was closer to getting the real Dean back. Having admitted he was taking the warning seriously seemed to only increase Sam's belief, which Bobby needed to quickly diffuse. "I ain't losing you, boy." He looked softer at Sam as a father would when a child just broke a priceless heirloom.

Sam half smiled at Bobby. "I can take care of myself."

**_Dean taught me how. He always took care of me, now I'll find a way._**

"You go check out the location of that call and buzz me if ya find anything. I'm going to have a few questions for our jailbirds. Don't go anywhere else without me."

"Same goes for you." Sam wondered how far Bobby would go to keep him out of sight.

"I won't do it without ya." Bobby always seemed to have a way to tell what the boys were thinking. "As of this moment, you're on hourly check-ins. No arguments!"

* * *

Some men swear fear quickened the senses, allowing them to rise to exceptional heights in times of danger, but Dean found it all unbearable.

**_I didn't use to!_**

He perched on his haunches near the old barn, which had seen about as many hard days as Dean. He was man in a frozen world of confusion, regrets, and memories. Just twenty feet away a solid glare of ice spread across a pond so small it bordered on pathetic. His dirty fingers dug down into the frozen ground, freeing a jagged stone from its earthly grave, flicking and skidding it hard down the thick water mirror surface. When it joined the mass of other pebbles on the far end of the water, he closed his eyes finding only a flash of hell there. He banged his head against some loose boards, an obvious makeshift repair, covering some of barn's decay. He slammed back again like he could rattle the thoughts away.

**_The stink of hell is still on me. It won't let me go._**

The thin line between his sanity and the darkness that threatened to engulf him grew thin with each passing moment. Soon the thread would break leaving nothing but darkness in a world that twists and breaks a person's mind until their very last hope is shattered leaving them broken, a fate he feared more than death.

**_I can't control it! It just gets worse. Is hell coming for me? I will never beat them, no matter how hard I try._**

He didn't know why he ran, just seemed to be the only option to him anymore. He didn't get too far before he realized he really didn't have anywhere to go or any means to get anywhere if he did. He could go back to the farmhouse, demand his things and face the misguided women or just keep walking until he froze to death. Unfortunately, he didn't get to weigh his choices, hearing the two sisters approaching long before he could see him.

"Look at him; he's just sitting out there on the snow covered ground. Lord, I think his brain done addled."

"That's what I said about you when you were sweet on Ernest."

"Shut up, you old hag." Gladys beamed a smile as she jabbed a boney elbow into the thickest part of Wanda's side. "Sick old fart."

When the usual banter received no rise from Dean, the sisters looked at each other thoughtfully. Finally, Wanda huffed, changing her tone. "You want to stay out here all night?" Wanda inquired, approaching softly with Gladys not far behind in tow.

"It gets a might colder here after dark."

Dean skidded a slick, warm from stealing the heat of his hand, pebble across the pond like he had so many others since he experienced that disturbing vision.

"We have dinner ready. I promise it's not sheep."

Wanda glanced at her sister, asking her to back for a moment. As Gladys stepped away, Wanda tossed a light weight blanket around Dean's shoulders. She glared at Dean, who was intent on ignoring the sisters. "You're going to start getting numb soon."

_**I already am! I'm a monster!**_

Nothing seemed to break Dean's solitude. Without a clue on how to drive the horror that took hold of the young man, the sister turned to what they knew best- down home medicine and clatter.

"Asafoetida bag! That will perk him right up. Sure fire cure of the doldrums."

"But, we used the last devil's dung in the bag for Mr. Jenkin's cat. Poor hairless thing."

"Should have called animal control…. "

"For Jenkins or the cat!?"

"He should have known better than paint that kitty green. "

"And to take it off with turpentine! Just cruel."

"I can still see that cat draggin' his ass across the farm yard."

"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He finally screamed his resolve breaking. He had enough of this gibberish. His entire world had ended and he couldn't take anymore nonsense and meaningless crap. "Whatever you're doing, it isn't working. What the hell do you know…?"

"Oh… I can give you bee pollen to cure the ahem… not working."

"WHAT!"

"You know dear… impotence." Wanda's hand made an up and down gesture far too obscene for Dean's idea of an old lady.

"WHATEVER CRAZY TRAIN…"

"We're not crazy, dear…just waiting for you to open that mouth."

"So you can shove some gross slop down it…. No thanks!"

"No, so you can learn that you won't get any better by bottling it up." Wanda's face was inches from his own, staring down at him blankly.

He glared, giving them the look of disgust. Yet it wasn't really aimed at them, they were just the closest thing his anger latched onto.

When he didn't give the women further satisfaction of a response, they both knew they had to push him over the edge. If Dean wanted venom, then that is what he would get. It was long passed the time to turn the mirror in on Dean.

"You should own up to what you did."

The accusatory tone in Gladys's voice, which up to now had been sickly sweet, stabbed at Dean more than the cold.

**_I saved my brother. It doesn't matter...Sam's alive. Sam's alive._**

"You'll feel better to cleanse the soul." Each sister took turns jabbing at the open wound inside of Dean, pouring blame faster and faster.

"Or are you ASHAMED!"

"It's a sorry state..."

"All those voice inside of you..."

"Dead!"

"Killer, I'd say..."

"Ready excuses..."

"We should let him freeze...."

"Wonder how many people he looked in the eye as they died!"

The sisters barraged accusations. The words blurred together. Every syllable struck a chord of how Dean felt deep inside, ripping a larger gash into his already shattered psyche.

"Bet he let that Sam die....'

**_SAM!_**

"Or killed him..."

"I feel so sorry..."

"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I DON"T WANT your sympathy, Cause there's no way that I'm sorry for what I did!!!!!!! I did nothing wrong!"

"Precisely. Then why are you so morose about it." Gladys asked softer with a wry smile, leading Dean precisely where they wanted.

"I... I..." His breathing pushed in short bursts around his words as he tried to verbalize any thought that swirled in his mind.

"It seems hate and guilt are the only things you are ready to accept. All that fear, hurt, and frustration. Are you still seeing those awful things?" Wanda spoke in a more direct tone, triumphantly they had goaded Dean to open up and anger was often the best way to crack into anyone's honesty.

"We saw the scars….that must have…."

"I know this is hard. But, I promise you can…" Wanda tried to reach out to him, but Dean repelled away.

"Why… why should you even care?"

"Because I do."

"Because we do." Gladys agreed.

"We'll I'm sure some stray dog could use your suffocating…"

"Young Man! Hmmm….bitterness doesn't suit you."

"Well get use to it. Better yet, tell me where the town is and I'll be out of your way."

"Don't try me sonny. I've taken down better than the likes of you. Shooting wasn't the only thing I'm good at. Now, if you are hell-bent on causing yourself misery, far be it from us to keep you from it. I had such hopes. I do prefer the kind child I saw chopping wood…"

"At least before you had the horrible flashback."

"Just… just leave me alone….it was nothing." He felt tears bite at him as if he was somehow homesick.

"It was pure pain and agony. I've seen it before. But I know there is a deeper gentle…"

"Lady, look… I was going to rob you that night on the bus. I'm nothing you want to make believe I am. Truth is… I've lied, stolen, broken as many laws some before they could even been written down, been a louse, cheater, con man….killer…. Now, just leave me alone. I could have robbed you blind that night if I wanted- lie in wait until I took you all out and had everything."

"I know that. But you took nothing. You didn't even fight back. Why?"

**_Because you're old farts with less than me._**

"It's the reason you can't force yourself to be hateful to me now. Even when you are so hurt that is all you have to protect yourself. I saw it that night. I maybe old but I am far from a fool."

"You needed somewhere to belong…."

"And you think I belong here. Lady, you are nuts."

"So where do you belong? Where are you going?" Wanda drew even closer, as her sister moved closer and closer from behind as if they might ensnare Dean's troubles between them.

**_HELL. I belong in Hell._**

"Don't know- everywhere… nowhere."

"You think the attitude scares me. We've bent more rascals over our knees than the wrinkles on my face. Dear boy, why do you…"

"It's not for you to tell me what to do!" Staring off distantly at the same group of stones collected on the frozen pond, he swallowed down everything brimming to boil inside of him.

Gladys sighed, drawing closer to her sister like a second wave in a battle. Wanda just gave Dean a small smile. "You know my husband was like you. Proud and determined on the outside, but the inside was jelly. Mac fought in the war…And…. For a long time…."

"For a very long time…."

"When he came back, he was just....just not himself. He was held prisoner and he never really would tell me what happened during that time. I tried so hard to get it out of him."

"Maybe you should have left him alone." Dean advised. "Or did you drive him away too!"

"Indeed not." She said with just a bit of defensiveness.

"God rest him." Gladys added.

"I still miss him terribly, but… but we had…."

Suddenly, Dean felt like a jackass and if his life were a cartoon he was sure a braying donkey would flash in his place. The draconian nature of his words seemed ill placed against the harmless old broads, who had done little but help him since he crossed in their paths. Sure, they were annoying, but such venom should be reserved for the things that crawled in the dark.

"Mac always said I was what kept him from going crazy. No matter what he had done or had seen, he knew he had someone on his side…"

"There is no one left…" he muttered.

"Hmm…" Gladys moved in closer messing with the edges of the blanket around Dean, not really touching him. Obviously, she didn't buy that Dean was friendless in this world. Men with his looks could find several women to fall at his feet. "Or do you think you are not deserving of connections in this world."

He was silent, not knowing how to express himself even if he wanted to. He was alone and no one could understand something he couldn't understand. His battle raged from within now, not from some unseen creature or person.

"I don't know what to do."

"Because you're the enemy now."

**_GOD SHE KNOWS… HOW CAN SHE KNOW?_**

"It'll be the largest war you have ever fought, but…. But…"

Suddenly, Gladys's hand ruffed a few hairs- just enough to announce her presence behind him. "You know salvation can be achieved by all."

"However, most of us deny the sins and feel we deserve the pain that has happened to us."

"No one deserves pain…Allow yourself mercy."

**_If only it were true my life might mean something. How I offer hope to the old sisters, when I can't even trust anyone- Not even Sam and Bobby. They hate me enough to not even see I'm really here- to ignore me as if I don't exist. I know it's my fault. My deal hurt him more than I ever realized. I thought he was stronger than me… stronger than any of us. I broke him-my little brother who I was supposed to protect has changed and I'm the one that hurt him by trying to save him._**

When he glanced up, both sisters were smiling kindly. Dean hoped that he would not cry, but knew his eyes were glassy with clinging thoughts of yesterdays and wishes to change it all. The sisters did not pause or spare him the embarrassment of leaving him in his guilt. They pressed on, sounding as if they were trying to preach until the last word sheltered inside of him.

"Mac's the reason I see that agony on your face. The same…. Same look of the living dead. It took him a lot of years...took me a lot of years to realize that man than came back wasn't the man I married. He was scarred. And he had that look...just like the one I saw on your face the night you tried to rob us."

"I... I didn't... I couldn't....I'm not a man anymore."

"Poppycock! You're more human than most people who doing nothing. You stopped speaking harshly because you thought you hurt me....your morals couldn't let you destroy me when I am sure you are more than capable of doing so. Do you think many men would even stop and consider helping two old ladies cut wood? Yet, you demanded we stop. Somehow you lost your focus on the decency inside you."

"Nothing can change that at the root, the rest is just fear." Gladys added. "You don't have to be afraid of anything."

"There's more to afraid of out there than I could ever tell you." Dean folded his hands under the blanket, suddenly feeling the abrupt cold. "I'm not afraid- you can't be afraid in my line of work. And it won't... won't go away....won't...."

"You're afraid of everything- kindness, most of all. Might mean you have to admit there is goodness when you have seen battles. You're afraid of yourself. You think you want to die- end it all, but why are you running. Deep down you want to be who you are."

"Just like Mac- you're running from what happened as if you can get away."

"I want to be who I was."

"You can't go back... Once you realize that, these flashes won't control you."

Without any word from him, the sisters knew he had lost self control. He was spinning out at both ends- no future or past to turn to.

Wanda drew closer. "You have something left to fight for."

"I don't….I've nothing to lose."

"Yes you do. You're still reaching for it."

"I feel my control growing weaker and Hell's grip getting stronger…" He didn't care being literal. It wasn't like the sisters would believe he had been in Hell and saved by some strange miracle.

**_NO- Not a miracle…. A better form of hell._**

He was sure some dark thing had thought it fitting to send him back on earth to suffer in ways Dean never imagined and at the end of it all, he would return to the pit with this new found pain. Surely something dark wanted him to suffer. The notion pestered him all day and invaded the transistors sparking in his head. "You don't know what it's like."

"No, and I never want to."

"Suddenly I'm a prisoner in this shapeless and meaningless world. And I hate it there! Caged. And I can't win… no matter what I can't win."

Wanda glanced at her sister, giving her a small sigh. Dean was a reminder to her of the young man she had loved so dearly and lost just a short time ago. "Sweet boy, why must you win? Can't you just be?"

"I don't have a choice. The darkness grows and you fight…No damn hope of making the world better. There is always madness and I'm always in the center. It's always there…no matter where we go. You can't run…You can't…..you can't…." He breathed heavily. "What do I do now?"

"Learn to live again…." Gladys noticed the word we in his words, filing it way for future conversations. Both sisters knew they had to press carefully and there had been more than enough on the boy for the moment. "Come now, let's get inside and warm…"

"You don't understand. I can't stop this!"

"Course you can- Yes I want to live or No I want to die."

"I don't want to die!"

The sound coming from his mouth shocked him. For all his twisted logic and loneliness from before, he didn't want his life to end.

**_How did they know!_**

He wanted to ask them, but he didn't understand it himself. Did he have hope that one day he would find a way to restore his family? Or just the hope of having a second chance at life? He knew he would sacrifice himself again to spare Sam, even with the pain he suffered in Hell, but he knew now he wasn't evil. He was only him. A bit beaten and worn thin, but he was Dean Winchester through and through.

"Did Mac ever…" Dean had to know if there was any way for him to be normal, confirming the sisters suspicions in that one small uttered question.

"He had some more bad days, but we worked through all of it. Then there was more good than bad. Certain sounds would trigger it. I wish he were still alive to help you. But, if you let us, we will help….don't you want something for yourself- some peace. I know we are poor substitutes for Mac..."

**_MY FAMILY! I want my family._**

"You're not. I'm sorry…. I…." when her words were finished he grew quiet as the information swirled and lingered in the most private thought in his mind. He'd never spoken of his own inner demons to anyone. Even the family business discussions had been off limits. And the few times he did share that information, he had always been the one to bear the hurt for it.

Wanda pulled him closer, believing she has broken into his protection. "You can stay as long as you want with us. You have to accept what has happened to move forward. Even if it means rebuilding....moving on from those you love..."

"We can help you if you let us. I know we'd like to try. If you can tolerate a couple of old coots?" Gladys stroked Dean's messy hair. "Lord, you have to comb that hair…. Needs a good cut."

"Hmmm… that's a tall order. Still….having a hot man at the house will have them gossiping forever around here!" Wanda noted.

"I'll get some chamomile and hops tea started. That should help calm his nerves."

"Come back to the house. Would you like some dinner now?"

"Do I have any choice in the matter?"

**_God no more sheep stew! OR WORSE!_**

"Course you do dear, yes and no."

* * *

His fingers shook over the fine porcelain cup, which seemed too precious and delicate in his dirt covered hands. He always had steady hands- steady aim-- but it failed him now. The cup slipped and drops of the hot liquid slightly burned his fingers.

"Drink it up now." Gladys ordered as she rubbed his spine, straight down the patch of freckles she knew were just hidden underneath the fabric of the old shirt.

Dean responded, relaxing his shaking to a mild tremor. "I'm fine… you don't…"

"Hush! Don't you argue with us. We haven't lost an argument since I was 12." Wanda had a sinister smile on her face as if she was recalling the victory. "You sure you won't have something to eat." She offered placing the leftover in the frig. A mountain of fried chicken, stuffing, pie, and rolls threatened to keep the door from closing.

"That's not really a meal. It's a death wish."

"Well if you have to go… "Wanda said. "I'm old… and no diet is going to keep the reaper from my door."

"Don't say that…" For some reason the thought of either sister dying bothered him.

"Death is not that scary. After you hit 70 you just want to tell the bastard to hurry up." Gladys added.

"Aren't you afraid of Hell?"

"Don't believe in it."

"You damn well should."

"Language child!"

"Only those that think they deserve Hell go there! And I don't think I deserve to go… why do you?"

Just earlier, Dean had thought the same idea that he belonged in Hell for all the stupid things he had ever done. Not now. Something had changed. He wasn't sure what. He knew who had facilitated the shift, but how that small switch flicked inside of him baffled him at every turn. Everything still hurt, but he wanted to try to find a path back.

"Told you anyone can find forgiveness but it's the idea of not being worthy of it."

"You're wrong."

"Oh, you know of someone who went to Hell and thought they were in the wrong place?"

Finding he couldn't argue with that, Dean raced to find some words until Gladys spoke again.

"Still think you should eat something."

Normally, Dean would have jumped right in, but for once he really wasn't hungry. He was tired, confused, full of new ideas, and missing his family more than ever. Without any idea of where to turn, he was just as blank as a page. Not wanting to think of anything that might take him back to a hellish flashback, he craved to phase out like he could will himself to disappear. Yet, the small words the sisters spoke only confirmed he was still in a lost in some strange new world.

**_I can't let these two bear my burden. It's not right. I can't bring the evil truth to their door. Let them live in peace._**

"Is the tea okay?"

"It's fine…"

"I'll make some more…" Gladys jumped up, taking the empty cup from his hands.

"I should really get going."

"No, it's okay… tea is one of my specialties."

Watching the old ladies move about like overactive chickens, Dean found it hard to reconcile the nonsense side with the wise ladies he had just seen. A brief smile forced on one corner of his mouth, but it was so brief it was like it never happened. "No offense, but why would you want to help a total stranger… someone you don't know a thing about?" he asked.

Wanda looked at him as if dissecting him. Thoughts of the need to find the right words squished on her perched lips while Gladys seemed to pretend she never heard the question. Absently, she hummed, poured more tea, and filled the cup with a dash of this and that until she seemed satisfied it was perfect.

Finally, Wanda answered or more likely asked him a question "Tell me…. Have you ever saved someone you didn't know? Fought for a person you just met?"

"Yeah, but that's different… It's my job."

"But why did you choose that job?" Handing him the porcelain tea cup, Gladys picked up the mode of thought for her sister easily.

**_Because some demon destroyed my family._**

"Not really my first choice. Kinda just happened."

"When you were asked to save them, did you question why you did so?"

"It was just right… I don't know… Maybe I was selfish, thinking I could stop someone else from facing the things I had in my youth….It was just right."

With eyebrows arched, Wanda smiled that victorious way again. "Then you have your answer."

Suddenly Dean yawned and he felt a bit soft as if boneless.

"Oh… poor dear, you should lay down. Sleep always helps."

**_I don't want to sleep. Hell comes in my dreams. They come in my dreams. She comes in my dreams and I can't face her!_**

For the first time, Dean found himself acknowledging there had been someone in Hell with him. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the thought. As soon as it sprang to life in him, it felt natural that he wasn't the only soul haunting the pits. Yet, the very idea of it disturbed him and pushed back some of the sluggishness he felt.

"Here let's add another drop of honey to that tea. Always helps me sleep."

Before he could say no, she had added two drops of a liquid, which looked more like milky water than honey. One thing for certain, no one ever could win an argument with these two, so he gulped the tea down hsi gullet. He was never one for drinking something so tame, but the warmth helped ease every microscopic fiber in his body.

"Why don't you lay down for a bit... ?'

"Listen, I appreciate the thought. I really do…" He said softly and then poured on the charm he used so well. "My life....It's a bit looney tunes, but… You really don't want to be a part of this."

"Nonsense. It's too late to take a bus."

"And Russell never runs the bus much in this weather. Could be days before he gets his rear in gear."

"Rear in Gear. Oh, my Dear. That's funny." Gladys full on snorted before she chuckled.

**_WOMEN! Even old ones make no sense!_**

"Oh no, now you're doing it."

"Reminds me of the time…"

"No… I almost forgot that…"

"Slipped right out…"

As the sisters went on and on about something Dean couldn't follow even if he had detailed instructions, he gaped a yawn, still clinging to the idea of fighting sleep. The questions in his own mind would surely lead him back to that pain once he closed his eyes. He was safer in the musty walls of the farmhouse with Gladys and Wanda. He defied the very idea of sleeping as his eyelids dropped like a brick emersed in water. He balled his fist in defense. His hands ready just in case anything came at him.

"The look on his face…. Priceless."

"I thought he was going to piss his pants."

"He did- right down his left pant leg."

"You would have thought he got a glimpse of Christmas with no pies baked."

"Huh?" Dean muttered half dozily, while Wanda helped shift him down to the couch cushion, extending his legs to lay fully.

"Oh, dear boy….tsk....rest now. I promise no dreams tonight."

Gladys unfurled his closed fingers to a relaxed position before she pulled a patchwork quilt over him, tucking him more tightly that most people bound ropes. "Hushabye now. We promise you'll be safe."

Distantly, he heard his mother's voice join the chorus of their tones. Perhaps it was the memory of his mother tucking him in all those nights ago that sprang her sweet, emotional words to his mind. "Go on now… Remember I love you. Can you remember that? Promise me." Just as the thought came, it passed when the door to his mind closed into the numbness of sleep.

"Poor dear."

"How many drops did you give him?"

"Only four otherwise the tea tastes really bitter. My dropsy sleep cure is better than any store brand you can find."

"Heck seven drops could collapse an elephant! I'm fairly sure that is how you got the Quarterback to date you junior year."

"Women always have ways, sister!" Gladys laughed, and then sighed at the sleeping boy. "At least tonight, he won't have all those horrid memories bothering him."

"The sweet, broken thing."

"I hated being so cruel to him before."

"Now, now. It had to be done. Self-preservation is a primal urge, dear and he was a locked door."

"Doesn't mean I like it. He almost made me cry."

"Hell- you get squeamish watching Bambi!"

"Shut it crone!"

"Fart Queen!"


	8. Setup

**Hi all! I'm writing super fast (Shocking isn't that) I hope to get another chapter up tonight and want to finish this story by the end of this weekend. I got a great writing contest I really want to enter, if I can write a novel in 3 months. Okay, I know... dorky I am...whoa... that sounded like full on Yoda there! *AHEM* uh... sorry about that. My Alex is in a Star Wars kick and I think I have seen the movies way to dang much lately. Anyway, back to the original topic-I hope to start a real novel (without it being a too far a pipe dream for me *sigh*). Yet, I can't leave Sam and Dean hanging out here and not get to the end. The boys are too much fun.**

**So, thanks for the reviews and comments, I appreciate them very much. Words of wisdom or pokes with a hot stick seem to keep me going. LOL :D**

* * *

Lawrence...in the county holding....

"We weren't doing anything but being upstanding citizens," Jackson explained as Hugo nodded in unison. "Our civic duty..." The only thing that could have made the words more fictitious would be if a bright halo flashed on above the convicts head.

"Son, don't bullshit me…. Been at this long before either you boy stole your first pack of gum. Listen, I'm here to talk about your case. I could care two shakes about what you tell a jury. I just want the truth so I can see what loopholes you have to work with."

"We really don't need a hick lawyer, we have..."

"Suit yourself, but that fancy one you got lined up still has your ass in this can. You seen him in days? Or not at all? Face it buckos, you ain't got friends." Bobby knew even with a rap sheet a mile long, these goons didn't have any big league connections. No, these two were less equipped than the bumbler wannabe in a Godfather movie. "I've seen your record and it's not likely to get you sympathy. Besides, anything you tell me is privileged. So what's the harm really in telling me what happened?"

Hugo gave Bobby a good once over as if he might just break his cuffs and bust out of here, using Bobby as a hostage. "We weren't going to kill him."

"Shut it." The thin man ordered.

"No, I want out of this hole. You know I hate small places. If he can help us..."

Jackson grumbled. "Okay, if we give you a name, what can you do about our present accommodations?"

"Depends on who you are giving."

"Real whack job. Demented- and out for some nutso revenge."

"Revenge... huh?" Figuring these idiots had the misfortune to confront Dean as a wraith, it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time- just finding more than they bargained for looking for someone else. He didn't relish the idea of telling Sam this news. Then again, he hadn't confirmed it was Dean just yet.

"Saying all this biblical eye for eye crap. But, money is money. She had this list of names on her-don't know how many, but I think she's killed before."

"Crazy enough." The big man's eyes darted as if their employer could hear their offering to cut a deal."

"Whatcha gonna do with that?"

"I could talk to the DA, see what deal I can cut, but I have to know who you got for me before I do it."

"Several months back, this chic seeks us out, paying top dollar to locate two brothers." Jackson explained. "Wandell... uh... Molly or something..."

"Holley." Hugo corrected, pushing his large knuckles together as the cuffs clicked together. "But, she don't want us to whack 'em."

"So, piece of cake job."

"Seek and she destroys?" Bobby was more shocked by the news someone was after the boys and the who that was looking for them, not ready for that past ghost to haunt during an already emotional turmoil.

"What we figured. 'Cept these guys were harder to find than a whore at church." The thin man chuckled at his own pathetic joke. "We staked out places we knew they had been from her intel and finally caught up with one at the house."

Producing a picture out of his file, Bobby slapped Dean's picture in front of them. "This is the guy who cops fingered as being involved…"

"That's him… the guy we found at the place…"

"That's when he attacked ya?" Bobby asked with expectation of the obvious answer on his face.

Jackson scoffed, "Hell no! We kicked his ass good."

"He mouthed off."

"You attacked him?" Face drawn, he felt worry and hope swirl in the pit of his stomach.

"Dean...yeah... that's the one… the older one….He starts insulting like he does this everyday of the week- like a freaking amused comic or somethin'. Held his own for a bit..."

"Whoa. You sure? You fought Dean- Dean Winchester?"

"We speaking Greek here? Yeah. And it was clear he wasn't giving up on that kid brother of his. Stubborn hard head."

"We were gonna beat it out of him."

"See here's the thing…. We call to her to get us outta here and her well and memory runs dry, but a day ago, she makes sure the word is out she found one of them on her own. Wants the message out for the little fella to follow."

"Why not just take out the one she has?"

"Nah... She wants 'em to learn somethin'. We don't know and we don't care."

"Precisely where can I find this bigger fish of yours?"

"No idea, but word is she wants the other one to show up to some coffee place on Oakhurst. We ain't passin' on no messages for her. She can shove it. We just want outta here."

"So what do you think? Can you get us...."

"I think things have turned out a lot different than I thought." Bobby mused, "I have some work to do and I'll get back to you." His mind racing, knowing Oakhurst was the precise location Sam had gone to investigate.

* * *

"You sure you haven't seen this guy?" Sam questioned the waitress at Lawrence's best coffee shop.

"Yeah, pretty sure. Did he do something wrong?" Maggie's mouth contorted deep in thought.

**_I did something wrong._**

"Uh... Oh... no...huhff... he's missing and I'm looking for him."

"Sorry, haven't seen him. People drift in and outta here so much I sometimes don't notice. You can ask Kat, she comes on shift in a couple hours. Whew! She's got an eye for cute boys, so she would have been sparked by the likes of him. Come to think of it, you should watch out for her too."

"Thanks," he mumbled disappointed.

**_No one has seen him! Dammit!_**

"Pretty important huh?"

Sam wished he was still in the Impala, watching Dean floor the gas pedal. "Yeah, my brother. We traced his phone to this location. I was hoping to pick up the trail."

"Can I leave a picture and if anyone..."

"Sure. You want that to go order now?"

"God yes. May be down here searching for a while."

"Considering you've been here since Vera's shift, I think that is an understatement. You want some fries too?"

"Yeah, got a lot of ground still to cover."

"Sure thing, sweet cakes." She left him, put his order in, began waiting on other customers, and checking other out. It was strange to hear the woman exchange routine pleasantries, while Sam's world was in chaos.

Waiting, Sam pulled out one of the stock photos Dean used to make fake IDs, placing one on the counter and staring at it as if the picture might speak to him.

**Where are you Dean? I'm going to find you.**

No matter how he rationalized it, the sensation that he was after his brother, and not some monster, grew epically with each moment. And he didn't care if every piece of evidence pointed to the contrary or if no one else had returned from Hell, he just wanted this so badly.

Absently, his finger tapped on the picture as several customers gathered at the counter to pay, gorging on impatience.

"Hey, I know that guy!" A thin woman yelled over the clatter of dishes and idle chatter.

"Huh...?" Sam half heard what the she had exclaimed. "Excuse me, I was thinking. What did..."

"I said I know this guy. Saw him a few days back at the gas station." Holley said, staring down at Sam.

"Where?"

"Across the street."

"You're sure?"

"Should be. His ass was on my bus. I run a tour bus out here for concerts from Franklin. Mainly every other week, but it's not bad for a second job."

"Did he say where he was going? How many days?" What do you mean bad?"

"Whoa! Slow down, buddy." Holley laughed. "Uh...think it was Tuesday night- pretty sure of it."

**_Tuesday was when he called me… the night of the fight._**

"Guy broke in the bus, but I think it was cause he was cold. Man was in pretty bad shape. Ended up getting a good beating from the oldies."

"Was he okay?" His voice flanged with accusations.

"Not precisely. Been beat up fairly good. Several of the old folks wanted to call the cops, but the gruesome twosome took a shine to him."

**_GRUESOME TWOSOME! THUGS!_**

"Is he okay!"

"Boy, you're high strung." She never counted on that, but it would be so much nicer that way. It was obvious Sam really cared about big brother Dean. "Fine last I saw. I just call them that cause they are tough old birds- sharp as hawks. I'd not want to get on the bad side of either of them."

"Do you know where I can find them?"

"Nah, I just get them in and back out of town until the next trip, but ask anyone in Franklin and they'll know Wanda and Gladys. Should be easy for a guy like you to find…. He a…."

"Took something I need. Been looking for him…Thanks…"

As Sam sprinted out, Holley skewered herself on self praise. Things were going far better than she ever planned.


	9. Bait

**

* * *

**

A day later....

For the past couple of days, Dean couldn't say he felt normal. Actually, he didn't have a compass to gage what that precisely was. Still, he imagined it must feel a bit like this, although he never thought the civilian life was so- so- strange. Somehow, the two grannies found plenty for him to do, reminding him more than once that idle hands did the devil's work.

**_If they only knew how close to that I was-I AM- to the devil. If there is a devil?_**

He wasn't going to question his lack of memory of the devil, he had seen enough horrid pain in his last vision and there were some things he thought he was better off not knowing. Every part of his hunter instinct told him to leave as that was the right thing to do. Just when he thought of making that argument, the sisters found ways to distract him. Of course, he wasn't really fighting them to go as hard as he could. He loved the idea of being fussed over as it happened so rarely in his lifetime, even if he sometimes he felt like a subject in their experiment. When he grew too suspicious, they would wander off in some conversation about bunions or the signs being in the feet.

**_Whatever that means!_**

"Remind me while were in town to get more shit paper… you'd all have shitty asses if I didn't remember the shit paper!" Wanda jotted the words down on a small note card, writing a list out for town.

Her words cracked into Dean's thoughts. A chuckle slipped-small and odd sounding, but a chuckle nonetheless. For a brief second, Dean wondered if the floorboards had made the sound, but it was definitely him.

"Don't forget the shit paper!" Gladys laughed.

"I'll shit paper you."

There was something about the way Wanda said shit paper that amused him. Maybe it was the way her voice went up another octave on the word shit then paper spilled out like a madwoman on fire. Somehow, she made toilet paper sound like a matter of life and death.

"Would you like to come with us tomorrow?" She asked in her normal tone without the urgency.

"Or you can stay here if you don't think you are ready for town."

It obvious Gladys wanted Dean to stay, perhaps thinking he might just take off to another town. For the moment he needed a place to lay low and collect his thoughts. Just this morning he heard his mother's voice again, telling him she wanted so much more for him. Asking him –and begging- for him to find Sam. He was sure it was his own subconscious desire. Family was all he ever really wanted, but he had to get control of these flashes before he began to think of how to make Sam see he was really back.

**_If I believe I'm me, then Sam and Bobby have to. I just need to figure out how I got out and it will all make sense._**

He had grown too quiet and when he peered at the sisters, looks of worry adorned their faces. "I'm fine…just wondering if this is a barn or a train wreck. "

"As you can see, no one has cleaned up in here since Mac died. We used to supply feed and hay for half the county." Wanda pulled a stray strand of hay from her blue tinted hair.

"But after he passed, we just couldn't keep up with the demand."

"So I see." Dean suggested, eyeing the scattered piles of hay and the long series of wooden planks boarding up one of the barn's windows. The outside wind beat against the creaking wood, digging hard to pry the rusted nails loose and get inside.

"One does what one can!"

"I'll take care of it."

"Really? We had hoped."

"You know… when you picked me up, did you think you were getting a free work…"

"No, dear. But we are a might thankful for the help. You may stay either way. I leave it up to your better judgment, sweet boy." The first order of business was to make Dean feel wanted and useful and this did just the trick. Wanda minced sweetness in her words like any expert mother serving up a fresh steamy plate of guilt.

"And you seem to work well with your hands."

"Yeah. Had to have something to do. Sam was the one with the brains…" He let the idea of his little brother slip into the conversation naturally and unexpectedly. And for the life of him it panged worse than the visions of Hell he had been experiencing at the edges of his mind.

"Let it pass."

Throwing up an open palm, Dean demanded they stop talking for a second. To his surprise, neither uttered a word. His breath squeezed out as if air were stolen from him. He turned, not to run, but from the need of solitude. Stepping out of the barn and moving far enough away that no one but the winter air could hear him, he dialed Sam's number, tapping an impatient foot in time with the phone.

**_GOD, what am I thinking!_**

"Hello?" Sam sounded almost tentative.

No matter how wrong or insane the idea seemed, he couldn't hang up. He dared not move or speak. Words failed him as if he had just been asked to respond to a complex math equation before an asteroid destroyed the Earth. Just one hello stole every thought he had. Finally, Sam hung up, possibly chalking it up to a wrong number.

**_I'm trying Sam. I just- just can't yet. What words could be so Dean Winchester that you would drop everything to find me? Who am I kidding anyway?_**

He took a long moment, letting the wind strike his face a bright read and then decided he had forgiven himself this failed call. In some weird way, he thought Sam would have been proud of him for reaching out.

**_Isn't that what you always tried to pry out of me, Sammy?_**

Silently, he turned and rejoined the sisters in the barn, ready now to face at least a few questions.

"Okay dear?"

"Yeah... just.... just being slightly stupid."

"You aren't permit to call yourself stupid around us. When you're with us, the war's over for you." Wanda gave him a slight shove, which turned into a noticeable tug-hug on his shoulder.

"Not really." Dean gave them a nod. "I'm okay. The images are better- easier to control. Sometimes they creep up, but I think..."

"About Sam?" Wanda asked.

**_Can't slip a damn thing pass them._**

"You've said that name before."

"I have?"

"Yes, when you were here the first night when…"

"I just…" he sighed. "Sam... He's....he's my brother..."

"Did he pass too?"

**_He did once._**

He felt it unwise to give a distinct rundown of how he ended up in this predicament, but his subconscious had opened this Pandora's Box to the world and he knew they wouldn't stop questioning until they had at least a satisfactory answer.

"No, we just don't see eye to eye anymore. They don't want me."

"They?"

**_DAMMIT DEAN! You worse than the movie LIAR LIAR! FOCUS! Dad always said my mouth would get me in trouble one day._**

He knew he had nothing to fear in this place or from the sisters, but it just seemed a bit to raw to say aloud. Yet, he knew he needed to. Maybe they would have something that would break the icy riff between he and Sam.

**_Hey, my brother thinks I'm a demon. Got any quotes out there to say AM NOT! GOD! Dean you are stupid!_**

"How could anyone not want you?"

"Got a mob with pitchforks once pretty riled at me." He flashed a fake grin that waivered at the edges, taking a play right out of the sister's handbook.

"Hostile cheerleaders don't count! And you should have known better to begin with" Wanda's eyes glinted with mischievousness, telling Dean he wasn't going to get off this subject easily with a few well place phrases of wit.

"I..."

"Now who are they?"

"You don't give up do you?"

"Not yet."

"Yeah… well….it just me, Sam, and Bobby…. Bobby's kinda like this uncle who…uh…kinda like a father more times than not."

"Why don't you call them?"

**_I tried and failed._**

"It's not that simple. Things… are…were- damn, I don't know… it's just bad… believe me." Then he sparked a lie in his mind. "Don't think they can forgive me for what I've done just yet. Maybe one day."

"It doesn't matter. Others will be here for you until all wounds heal. God has a way of giving what you need at just the right time in just the right place. He brought you here when we needed you. You have to believe that time heals and others will become just as important to you." As she smiled, Wanda pulled a stay hair behind her ear.

**_None will be as important as them._**

Gladys shoved a hammer in Dean's hand, trying desperately to measure just how deep Dean was in emotion without alerting him to the inspection. "I'm sure he misses you."

"Doubtful."

"But you miss him."

**_Please stop prying!_**

"No. I don't. That part of me is dead."

**_One day! I'll get it all back one day._**

He must have made an unintended expression as the sisters read his need for privacy. Gladys gave her sister a wink, coughing once. "He does still looks a bit puckish…."

"What the hell does puckish mean?"

"Puck like!" Wanda noted as if everyone knew exactly what it meant.

"Doesn't help me a lick."

"We should give him…" Gladys was about to dig in her bag of home remedies and use Dean as a guinea pig again. Already, he knew at least ten ways to use Witch Hazel and none of them seemed entirely appropriate.

"Whoa… let's get one thing straight- I'm not sick- no diarrheas- no aches- no pains… everything is working as it should... Up, down, and sideways."

"Ernest let a fart cross ways once- took feeding him a bar of soap to get it out."

"I thought for sure he would fart bubbles… tiny bubbles."

Dean was sure Wanda was going to start singing Don Ho any minute, but before she could, he nipped the idea of that torture from her. "I have nothing crossed and I think I want to keep it that way. I'm 100% grade A…. and if it wasn't.... I am not sure I want you to know. Uhhh… and if you feed me anything that didn't come from a chicken... pig…"

"Oh we have a great recipe for mountain oyster…"

"Have you ever met something you didn't try to deep fry?"

"Hmmmm....not yet" It looked like Wanda gave Dean a raised eyebrow, yet he wasn't entirely sure she was kidding.

"Let's just stick with normal things… hamburger-hot dogs-pie."

"Do you know what's in a hot dog?"

Before he could fathom what, Wanda blurted the answer to her own question. "Chicken lips and assholes."

Chuckling, Dean shocked himself that he could. The brief weak sound of before, spilled in to a hearty laugh as if his mouth just remembered how.

"I'll be! He has a good laugh."

"Not at all like any animal."

"Okay! Stop!" He kicked at a stray strand of hay at his feet, hiding a small snicker in his hand. "Just stop …"

"We'll isn't this just sweet!" A slight woman strutted into the barn, baring a polished gun at the trio.

Instinctively, Dean stepped in front of Wanda and Gladys. "Whatever you want, you can tell there's not much here for you."

"Just you! I've looked for you for a long while. Don't you recognize me? People say I look like my father….come one now, you got to look him in the eye as Sam killed him."

"Lady this ain't super password. Whatever fruit loop reason…"

"You let Sam kill him without even blinking and he'll get to watch you die- just as helpless as my Dad." She turned her attention to the older ladies, ordering them about like two puppets. "I have to thank you. I figured the Winchesters would go to ground until they found who was tracking them, but you ancient hags kept him nice a cozy for me.

"Get off of our property!"

"We'll..."

"BE QUIET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Dean and Holley both ordered for vastly different reasons.

"Move now!" She barked. "You make a play and I'll blast them and you... You being dead is as good as alive for Sam. Though I prefer he watch you die."

"Well, you're timing sucks! Cause Sam and I are on the outs. Guess you don't get that news in crackpot weekly."

"Cuffs!" She demanding, swinging a pair to Dean's waiting fingers. "Now be a good boy and chain yourself to something."

Dean stalked to the old tractor, linking the other cuff to a grill and around one wrist. "There, now... why don't you and I have a little talk and…"

"BIDDIES! Get over there…" Holley ordered the sisters, shoving them with her gun point. Finally she cuffed them to an old railing on the other side of the barn. The sisters linked together around either side of a beam. "That should keep you."

"You gutter witch…" Wanda started.

"Shut your yap. Dean, you do have the nicest friends."

"What them… shit… just a con for me… They have nothing to do with this."

"How can you say that!" Gladys screamed.

"Cause you are! I needed a place to stay, food, money and you were two lonely broads that needed to throw a Christian pity party on someone."

"You hooligan!" Wanda's lip quivered.

Dean gave her an apologetic glance, just small enough for Holley not to notice, telling her to back off and play along, hoping he could just keep them safe through all of this. He had brought these troubles to their doorsteps. Concern for the old ladies did more to imprison Dean then the cuffs that pressed into him.

**_I won't let you down. I won't let anything happen to you. Promise._**

"Why don't you just tie them up in the house and we can have our pow-wow." Dean suggested.

"No, I don't need anyone warning Sam. I'm sure he might figure out it's a trap sooner or later, but the bait I have is just too good to stay away. I would expect no less than that from John Winchester's sons. Take some pride in your baby brother. Now we have to wait for him and it will all be over." A crazed expectation glimmering in her hazel eyes as she brushed away strands of caramel brown hair. Wandell's daughter had long and beautiful hair that was as untamed as her need for revenge.

"Good luck; he's miles from here…"

"Oh no. I saw him just yesterday. Leading him right to you. He was very eager for a reunion. Can't imagine what drove a nail between you...worked out great for me."

"You're lying."

"He's right on my heels. Probably stopped for a six pack peace offering or some other annoying vice you have." She whispered with a giggle of insane glee. "But, it seems I have time on my hands, should I show you the pain you caused me. Did you want him dead too? Should I make you see the pain you caused by doing nothing? Now which to chose."

"I don't know. You tell me. I could care less. But, if you want revenge, kill me . They're just some old bitches I hustled into taking me in…. Or do you just kill without…"

"Do you even know who I am?"

"Whack job!""

"You have no idea what you've done. Do you?" She grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt. "It's true what they say about you. Always in control… say the right thing….You want to control this situation? No one ever said you could." His blood would flow through her hands. "But you had the power then. Did my father beg?"

"Depends… did I kick his ass in a poker or…"

"Don't mock me! Or don't you remember Steve Wandell? Was he so meaningless in your long lines of murders?" Out of the silence of a long dead memory came like blood sliding off a knife.

**_She's like me. Running from the pain!_**

"I remember. You have to know that Sam didn't do it. And I didn't watch. Your Dad died from the hands of things he hunted. You know what I mean." Dean felt the same about the things that killed his mother.

"None of them could ever win against my father!" The pain of loss inside her tore at any shred of rationality she had.

Dean stood against her accusations, matching her gaze. A beautiful girl with skin as fresh and velvety as a peach glared back driven mad by her shattered spirit. He melted, knowing he wanted to save her too. "I believed that once about my Dad…. He was Superman- Our parents always are heroes in our eyes-- nothing ever could...would ever... Then one day he… he died… He gave all he could for me…. Huuhhh… I never thought he cared about me when he was alive…. . Funny thing is something is always badder around the corner. Dad knew that. So did yours and deep down you know it too."

Before one more word could form he found himself pinned against the grill of the tractor. The hand that held him dug dirty nails into his flesh, while eyes flamed with a lust filled gaze that predicted bloody endings. Her gun pressed coldness against his temple.

**_I know that look- agony in my soul._**

"I'm not interested in your excuses!" Just a quickly she released him, putting her gun inside her jean band before retrieving two full gas containers at the door. The liquid splattered on the crisp haystack and water starved wood, soaking inward with rapid thirst. Carefully, she left a wide circle that would burn inward on them.

"What are you doing…?" He jerked at his cuff while the metallic grill budged, giving protest.

"EVIL IN A PRETTY WRAPPER!" With her free hand, Wanda bounced against the wood beam, dislodging a rust encrusted horseshoe. Promptly, she wailed it with skilled aim straight at Holley. The iron hit her hand, forcing her to drop on e of the containers

Pride welled inside of Dean in a mini celebration, but their captor did not fall as he hoped.

"Do you want to die now, bitch? Sour old fart!"

"NO!" Dean screamed, yanking at the grill feeling some give. He frantically jerked, scrambling to get free until the gun again stalked aim on him.

A sing-song delight danced from her voice. "Thought you didn't care?"

"I don't, but you're here to get revenge and you're a bigger monster. You're willing to kill anyone to get to Sam. Would your father be proud?"

This was a not battle to save mankind, but for two old woman who opened hearts and home to him.

"Killers!"

"What are you saying!" Gladys demanded as Dean shook his head no.

"SHUT YOU'RE YAP!" Holley demanded.

Wanda jabbed her sister's side, getting her to be quiet. "I know you want to fight, but he wants us to…" The hush of her voice grew lower.

"Hey, they're just busybodies. Nothing to you. You're father died when a demon- Meg…. She… she took over Sam. Almost killed me too…Hold on to who he was… not this... not this You can kill me and Sam, but you can never completely destroy it…your own inner demons will always keep the hate alive."

"SHUT UP!" Holley bellowed, pulling her gun and smacking Dean hard across the temple.

He descended into darkness, fighting to say alert in order to protect his friends. His head swam against the current of unconsciousness, but his urgent thoughts drowned from the hard knot on his head. At first his body slumped, conforming to the dips and groves of the barn's earthen floor. Then his form twisted and within a microsecond, he wasn't in an almost collapsing barn, but smack in the bows of hell.

"Don't fight them... they make it hurt worse if you fight them. Don't try move around, son."

Dean heard the voice, but somehow didn't quite register the tone or the meaning behind the words.

"Baby, please. They want you to fight...don't..." His mother said.

"Who?" Dean asked, not wanting to admit the familiarity of the voice. He moaned, turning his head. "Mom..." His voice came weakly then shifted to panic. "No... No... You're not here... you can't be."

"I'll try to protect you if I can, but you have to obey me. Hell is..."

"No Dammit! No… you can't…" Dean knew the voice, loved it and hated it all at once.

"There are things you don't know- Deals I made. I destroyed my family even before you took a single breath. I thought I had found a way to protect you and make you safe, but I bargained my life away out of my own selfishness. This is where I belong, but I had hoped it would save you."

Dean jutted forward in the darkness and rose about a foot from his splayed position. "ARGGH!"

"Mom… I have to get you out..."

"There's no escape. If there was, I would have shoved you back to Sam. You're not going anywhere and all you're doing is allowing yourself to hurt more..."

"No! My mom can't be in Hell! Can't Be!"

"I'm so sorry... so...very sorry. I did this to you all."

* * *

**Author's note: Mary in hell! Aren't I a stinker! Wouldn't that be insane if Dean saw Mary or John during his time in hell and he knows they are still down there! Sorry- I'm evil. I know this is a bit off series, but I couldn't resist messing with Dean.... Its a bad bad habit! LOL.**


	10. Believe

**Author's note: Sorry for the delay, but lots of stuff is happening in my real world. But I am posting even if it goes up in small pieces. Thanks as always. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"The only thing better would be a hole in my head." Sam's forehead wrinkled as he spoke. Even the small lines began to look like caverns at the moment

"Careful what you wish for." Adjusting his trusty ballcap, Bobby cocked up one eyebrow. "It's not like we needed more problems."

"I hate when you're right. She was waiting, trying to lead me to Franklin. I checked the map; it's just a short drive- middle of nowhere..."

"Then we're heading south. Got a place right outside of Texas to regroup. You'll be safer there."

"NO!" His footing squared wider, aligning with his shoulders.

"She's setting us a trap. Pack it up."

"I'm going."

"Are you crazy? It's likely she tapped into the Dean being around like we did and using it to her..."

"She's thinking she can trap me and get Dean to come. I'm the bait. What if he tries to help us? He can't be too sure of himself right now."

"Dean wouldn't stick around anywhere without reason. He's smarter than that."

"I'm not doubting his skill, but. He's crushed Bobby. Even in normal-"

"Define normal."

Sam scoffed, not really have a clear explanation for his friend. "My brother can't be thinking clearly right now. If something were to happen... I ...I?"

"Son." He took a cleansing breath, too long and too steady. "I get it."

Drawing closer, Sam squinted his eyes, drawing the worry lines on his face even deeper. "No you don't. I have to face her. I even owe her that. I'd want peace to know how my Dad died- why he died."

"Sam, Stop! It's Wandell… his daughter's the one that wanted you. That bunch are kamikazes."

"We'll just reason with her. She's the daughter of a hunter. Once she finds out a demon…."

"No…. You listen to me now." He barked better than even John Winchester could have. "I'll work on this one- alone!"

"If she wanted to just kill me, she had plenty of time at that coffee place, but she…"

"Plenty of witnesses!"

Suddenly his cell began to ring, ceasing and holding the argument at bay, but far from ending it.

"Hello?" The line spouted dead silence and static. Distantly, he could hear baited, hitched, breathing or what sounded like a strong wind. Faintly, Sam thought he heard a sniffle, soft and fleeting and then it was deadly silent again. After a long time, he cut the call and readied himself to continue the disagreement.

**_No Dean to save me from this one. He would know what to say to get Bobby on his side._**

"Bobby, you have to understand..."

"Crank?"

"Guess so..." He muttered questioningly before he looked at the number in his received call. His eyes shocked wide as he peered at the digits. The very same number had delivered Dean's message to him days before. "God, Bobby. It was him. Dean."

"What'd he say?"

"Nothing....just dead air. Why didn't he...just..."

A slight smug smile flicked at the corners of Bobby's lips, yet there was a tenderness there that Sam had last seen when Dean died. From the day he buried his brother, Bobby tried to keep Sam steady and levelheaded. To say it had been hard would have not given the grief they felt the right weight. Even devastated was too poor of a word. The only gauge that seemed accurate enough would have been the way Dean reacted when John had died.

**_No wonder he traded himself for me. He couldn't live with this gnawing pain again._**

"I need to do this for him."

"That's where you need to focus. Let me handle Wandell. You find Dean."

He shocked in a disbelieving breath in his lungs. ..."You said find Dean?"

"So I did."

* * *

"Dean!" The sisters screamed over and over to a man who heard nothing but his mother's voice. He tried to desperately shake himself awake. As soon as his eyes snapped open, they noticed the bright spark that had slowly rebuilt over the last days now faded to a film of dull grey. His entire body slumped defeated as if his heart had smashed any will left in his body.

"Dean!" Wanda exclaimed. "You have to help us."

Finally, he glanced at the sister, raising an eyebrow, flicking a sad frown at them, shaking his head.

**_God, mom. I left you!_**

He shuddered as Holley took a looming step towards him.

"What? Suddenly, you're out of words."

Rage and malice dug in the deep in the scowl on her face. A curse painted her lips, waiting to strike out promising pain. When she found no response, she lashed out, kicking him harshly in his stomach.

"FIGHT HER!" Gladys screamed. "Don't give up!"

"I won't fight you." Dean sobered his thoughts enough to his current situation. In all the things he imagined or dreaded, none of them would envision his dear mother being trapped in Hell. He had been at her side in that darkness, yet he escaped and she was trapped- Abandoned.

"Please!" Gladys sensed the shift, fearing what image Dean had dredged from his mind to strike all the things they had worked to rebuild away so spider fast. She twisted, flexing to spy the drained face of a man who had just given up. The sisters had yet to sort out talk of demons and killings, but the threat this woman posed was too real to ignore.

"I won't fight you. He gagged the nerves that made his voice sound weak and wobbly. "Sorry… you're wrong. I killed Wandell. Not them. ME. If you have to take blood, take mine. I killed your father and Sam tried to stop me, but I didn't care. It was me. I'm the monster."

From the arch of her fist, he knew the full bear of her grief would strike him. None of her blows mattered as he would never have to tell Sam about their mother. Sam still deserved to have some hope and peace.

"Honor your father as I am honoring my family. Let Wanda and Gladys go. They had nothing to do with any of this and you deserve justice- not blind revenge."

He glanced at the sisters, begging them. "If you see Sam- Help him. Please?" One thing for certain, the sisters had a way to reach places he never dreamed. Sam was so angry the day Dean came back. Somehow he hoped Gladys and Wanda could dig some of that out of Sam. If anyone could crack the hard shell of a Winchester, the sisters had practical experience now.

**_But, I should be doing that. My job. I'm supposed to take care of Sam._**

"Promise me?" His voice was strained and reedy as if he were a starving child asking for something to eat. Yet even the pity in his voice did little to stop Holley from the punishment she had been waiting to inflict. If she heard his words, she gave no indication they swayed her in the least.

* * *

"You going to stand there with your mouth gaping or call him back?"

Sam's finger's pounded the return call menu button, sinking and capturing it under the hard cell casing. His fingernail pried at it unsuccessfully as the tones trilled. "Come on, Dean!"

Finally, the call connected and the stuck button popped free too. "Dean!" He blurted, more excitedly than he intended. "Stay where you are... I..."

CLICK. Faster than the second hand on a watch, the call terminated.

"He... he didn't respond! DAMN DEAN!"

"Easy now. Not like he's expecting the Brady Bunch reunion from us. We'll get you a trace on it. Dean'll hang tough for now."

"What if he's not? What if- what if he... It was Hell. He faced Hell and..."f

"I know. He's going to be different- in ways I can't think. Get on that phone. Hustle and charm a location. I'll take care of Wandell. You get him back for us."

Biting his lip, Sam held the mob of questions he had for Bobby just on the tip of his tongue. Instead he dialed his faithful contact, relaying a new plausible con to her to get a cell location. One hand crushed against his phone, waiting for the run down, while the other pulled at the frayed knee of his jeans.

"I want you to check in with me as soon as you get close to him. You may need my help still. Try not to spook him though. Doubt he'll be ready for us to be around after last time. Don't know how to fix that, but be careful. Whatever brought him back could be..."

"Don't… don't say it."

"I'm not. Something brought him back and evil inside him or not- we can beat it."

Sam stopped, tossing up a silence sign to his friend. "You're sure? No... Uh... thanks." Suddenly his voice filled with urgency. "Dean's in Franklin. That call came from that area. The trace- Holley's going for him."

"Christ no! She might have, but…"

"I have to know. If she wanted me dead, she would have killed me already."

"All the more reason to stay away. You don't know what she wants. Damn sure it's not good."

"She could be killing him now…"

"Stop it!" Bobby sighed as if sucking in air would find the right words. "If Wandell wants you both together, it ain't wise to put you in the same place. And our Dean can look…"

"She said he was hurt. She might know we were on to her. He may be bad and can't…" Then as if all gravity came crashing in on his gut, Sam realized the error in his thinking. "She wants- oh, God- she wants to take Dean from me! She's going to kill..."

"Son, I-"

"No. Not again! I can't live if... if... if I lose him again, you put me in a hole beside him. I won't survive."

"And if she was the one using that cell? Calling you to make it..."

"I don't care."

"We'll I do. Use that noggin of yours."

"What if she has him somewhere- locked away in some dark place and he keeps thinking Sam will save me cause I'm supposed to that. It's what we do. Protect him. Believe him!"

"We're supposed to." A bit of guilt entertwined in his words.

"You can't stop me- I'll... I'll..."

"What? Fight me?"

"If I have to." His nostrils flared with defiance. A tremble flicked in small crowfeet in the corner of his eyes. His face unfurrowed all the anger, releasing it to let concern take over. If his will wasn't set on saving Dean, he might have collapsed in some darkened room with a bottle of tequila, drinking his failures away. "I'm supposed to be there- for him- I owe..."

"We won't let him. I just need you on my side- not in some place where you don't listen. Didn't think talking sense would change your mind."

"100% Hardwood skulls." Sam flashed a smirk, trembling with some hope. "Please..."

"ARGGGG! Damn you boys." He relaxed his arms at his side, nodded his head, and a small click of surrender echoed around Bobby's teeth.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what made you..."

"Dean will whoop me for not try harder to keep you safe, but seems we BOTH got crow to eat and a big ass helping of it. We head Wandell off and clear the way. Suppose if he only has us on his trail, he might be more inclined to stop running."

"I know he will. I- I'm glad you're with me on this. That you believe me." Sam stuttered a few breaths.

"Wasn't you. I believe him. He wouldn't give you up. If that ain't Dean for ya, I'd eat my hat. He was ready to let those … they beat him and he wouldn't give you up. Some part of that boy's still in there and whatever it takes, I'll make sure he wins."

"We'll get him back." Sam's voice warbled, not sure who he was trying to reassure- himself or Bobby.

"Damn straight we will."

"Right now, let's find him and worry about Wandell. If we're going in, you play by my rules or I'll hogtie you and do it myself.

Sam nodded, agreeing but not really thinking what the rules will be. "Like to see you try." Sam added.

"No one is stopping me. Wandell is my mess. Something I have to answer for."

"True, but don't make it right for you to have to do that. We ask around town about Dean- get his first if he's around. Hopefully he's long gone or we get to him first."

"Holley gave me the names to look for, so we know where she'll be. Is it weird to hope Dean is drunk off his ass, lost in desperation instead of..."

"Seems downright normal." Bobby offered.

"Define normal."

"What we ain't." Bobby winked.

Even though they played that Dean might be safe, neither believed it. All the strings were forming a Holley's web and likely they would find Dean in the sticky thick of it.

"Anyway, we have 45 minutes to Franklin to plan, so you better be making your rules up pretty quick."

"Hope Dean saved a shooter for me. Swear you boys could drive a saint to drink."


	11. Spark

**Author's Note: Working fast. Hope to post another update Wednesday or Thursday this week.**

* * *

When the shrill tone rang, sounding more distant than it should have, Dean shook off the remnant effects of the last punch to his jaw. He realized first that he was on the ground, obviously sliding down and collapsing after several rounds of kicks and punches, Dean shadowed to nothing more than a heap against the massive, junk-ready tractor. His fastened wrist dangled above his head, still attached to the creaking metal grill.

After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted and he glared at his captor when he viewed his imprisoned cell phone in her fingers. She spoke no words, but an Elvis like snarl pulled up her upper lip. She severed the connection within seconds, dropped the closed phone at her feet, and smashed it with her boot heel.

"Sam's coming. What do you think we should make for dinner?"

"He's not coming... never going to come. I told you... know nothing.

"Funny, he sounded so urgent."

Dean's state bore testament to her demented games, only heightened by the promise of future bloodshed as she waited for Sam. The visions of torture were nothing more than a twisted child's play to her deranged excited mind.

"Me... My fault." He forced out on a wheezing and reedy voice.

"Do you think I am stupid? That I didn't do my research before I began my hunt?"

Her boot tip flicked his neck, pinning him against the tractor grill. His breath pushed out thin from under the pressure of the metal covered point of her boot toe. His skin flexed and molded to the grooves of the design, leaving a raised impression that would bruise later. She jabbed down, breaking the skin at his neck, carving a curse into his skin. Dean didn't scream or flinch as she marked her anger and pain into him. Spittles of red plummeted a crimson stain on the hat as marked evidence of her victory.

"Funny thing about computers- you can smash them and some wonderful egghead can find and fix about anything. A little visit to some yahoo collecting Star Wars figures in his parent's basement is all it takes for a computer to be rebuilt. It wasn't much- Just an image of a man killing my father."

"It was me." His voice spilled more like a groan than words.

"It was Sam! The rest was easy. I mean when your father's a legend in our world it got pretty easy. Pretty hard to hide when the old man is famous. I just had to show Sam's picture around and poof. It took all the money I had for college, but when this is over..."

"It's never over." His eyes danced with understandingand the first spark since the vision of his mother. "You're letting the demons win."

"You'd be surprised what they say about you. Got to say it was hard to believe at first that the mighty Winchesters had turned to basic murder..."

"We would never..."

Rubbing her restrained hand, trying to build enough warm sweat to make her wrist slick, Wanda nudged the cuff up over a thumb knuckle, but no further. The winter cold kept any real chance of slipping free impossible. Combined her old age enlarged joints and she would never slip out of her metallic restraints. "Please young lady, this mess can be sorted out. If you love your father enough to find his..."

"Shut your yap. Unless you want some of what they..."

"Don't." His fingers pulled at her pant leg, getting her attention, which only resulted in a kick to his face.

"Stupid. Trying to find saving grace now." She plunged her boot heel in his ribs several more time, yet Dean didn't make a sound, not even a squeak. His eyes flashed over to the sisters, narrowing and pleading for their silence. When it seemed like they understood, the corner of his mouth rose up in apology.

Shaking her head, Gladys eyes mirrored over with wetness. Her mouth began to open, but Wanda's yanked the cuff to her side of the post demanding her sister's attention.

"Stop. He wants us to stay out of this." Wanda whispered in a tone even hard for her sister to hear.

Thankfully, Gladys followed her example and spoke low and smoothly. "How can this be? All this mixed up talk. He's not a killer...can't..."

"He's not. He's trying to save us, you old fool."

"And Sam. He's doing this for him." Gladys wondered. "Remember he said Sam didn't understand. Sam is the killer that's why he wants us to help him. Don't you see? All those nightmares and trauma is from protecting his brother."

"That poor boy. The guilt." For a brief second, her voice grew too loud, but Dean covered for her.

"Let them go. Take them to the house. Tie them up. They don't deserve to die. They have family that must love them. Can you really give anyone else your pain? Their children? Grandchildren?"

"Shut up! Don't preach sacrifice and morals to me!"

"I've made more mistakes than anyone...been a jackass. But my father would never want me to avenge him like this. Believe me. You have to let this go."

"Eye for an eye."

"What about them?" He huffed out on pained breaths as he searched for an opening that would give him the upper hand. "Just two old gals..."

"Guilt by association." She drew out the s sound, almost sounding like a hissing snake.

He flared. Boiling anger blasted away any sensation of injury. Her rigid nature incited him. "If you've gone this cold, then all the pain you have is deserved! Maybe the world is better off without your father. If he taught..."

A loud cracked sounded from a backhand to his face, stopping the sacrilege he spouted about Holley's father. "You don't know anything about my father! He was a good man! A great man!"

"Then spare them! Let them..." A fist splattered in his jaw and then another jab to his cheek. "You're father was weak! That's why I had him killed- I'm a bastard that warped my baby brother!" His voice quaked as if suddenly chilled, yet it was only the lie that tainted his remarks. "Sam took off! LEFT ME! Cause he hated what I made him and what I made him do. Just a bloody instrument for me. Is that all you are for your father!" He forged it to sound believable, exuding the right amount of venom and sincerity in his voice. Enraged, Holley pumped his face until the world grew fuzzy and moist.

The iron flavor of blood teased his taste buds until his swallow reflex forced him to gulp the pooled liquid. Finally, involuntarily he screamed, yelping in pain. "Sam!"

**_No one will come for me. They never came for me. Thank God, this one time. He won't come. Only Mom... only Mom. I'll save Sam for us. Sam will be safe again and I'll come back for you, Mom._**

* * *

When a spark of moonlight flicked in Sam's eyes, he squinted, making his face look even more morose. He gripped the wheel, white knuckling the ridges until his fingers cramped. His laugh line dimples flashed just as boldly in the frown that plagued his face. He listened intently at the steady growling of the Impala in his hands. As he killed the engine, the buttoned silence of the farmhouse tugged at Sam's spine. The shiver skittered up and back again, taking refuge in an addled, worried brain that mentally prepared for a number of possibilities, yet all his thoughts drifted to a wish of brotherly reunion.

Eye of the Prize! He reminded, naturally letting the phrase ring with Dean's voice instead of his own.

"Beer for your thoughts."

"Just-"

"It's been a rough patch of days." Even though Bobby's face shaded in the darkness of the passenger seat, Sam knew both of them were in the same state of mind- Doubt, guilt, hope, confession.

"Yeah, I've been trying so hard to believe Dean was back, but in the back of my mind-"

"You still got to wonder." Bobby coughed clearing his throat to shake any thought of sounding weak. "If this- If we have to free him from anything… and it gets bad, I meant what I said, I'll do it."

"I can't ask you…"

"Who's askin'?" Bobby cried silently, breaths pushing out harshly and betraying his bottled up inner walls. "But for the life of me, I can't help to…"

"Feel he's out there, waiting for us. Fighting off the whole damn world- kicking demon ass." Then, Sam sucked in several tangled hard breaths, trying to hide the evidence of this moment. "Yeah. I mean training tells me to be a hard ass- not let myself get caught up. I know he's back and if we can save even the slimmest...I tried, but no demon could fake that quiver in his voice…"

"Or the fact that he protected you in that brawl."

"You know I…

"We."

"I shouldn't think it- should go in like any ordinary hunt- do the right exorcisms and use the right weapon, but I can't- I can't."

"I thought I could at the start, but Dean always had a way of worming around and changing my mind. Damn kid."

"Not anymore. He'll never be damned again. If it takes everything I have..."

They both grew quiet for a moment, trying to rally against the guilt inside them both, knowing it had little place in making amends to Holley or Dean.

"Better?" Bobby wiped his eye with a dirty sleeve to hide a clean patch made by a few tears.

"NO." He shrugged.

Bobby instinctively batted a knuckle to Sam's shoulder, sending the shiver to skitter back down the tailbone. "Be careful…"

Sam's eyes riveted shut briefly before he flickered them chasm open. "Be here to back me up."

"Think I can manage that." Bobby said as Sam responded by patting the top of Sam's shoulder.

"Just get Dean out of here. I'll handle..."

"Doesn't work that way." Bobby raised an eyebrow finding the best place to get the high ground. "I'll be right behind you- This goes gonzo and you haul ass."

Coughing, Sam's words ran dry. He knew, as well as Bobby, that there would be no running this time. As both men exited the car, they exchanged a rigid nod.

"You damn kids..." Bobby muttered stalking in the shadow coverage as he followed Sam's movements.

Sam sauntered, ensuring he was visible to anyone. If luck was on their side, which had never happened in the history of the Winchesters' history, Dean would be the only worry they had tonight. If, as Sam and Bobby feared, Holley held his brother captive, it seemed wise to play on the ruse until they had some idea about the lay of the land. When several minutes passed without a clear sign that anyone stirred on the farmland, Sam called out.

"Dean?" He swore that not even the wind stirred in response to him. He swallowed hard, the cold clogging his throat as much as fear. "DEAN!"

"Dean's not home right now... leave a message." He heard a woman volley back in response.

"Wandell." He murmured through gritted teeth. "DEAN!"

Sam gave Bobby a signal, indicating the moves he was about to make. "DEAN!"

The closer he came to Holley, the more his feeling of an impending disaster grew. Each step marked another descent to endings that reeked with the scent of death.

WHERE ARE YOU!" Sam screamed. "DEAN! COME OUT NOW!" He hated the timber of panic and anger in his voice. "DEAN!" He screamed harsher and louder, ignoring his urge to reach out in compassion to his brother. For it was the last thing in the universe Sam wanted, to be at odds with his brother again, but it was far better that even Dean expected nothing out of him. Given what had happened the last time, his brother was likely to run and be safe from this Wandell madness. Bobby would spring into action, capturing Dean if necessary.

The first rule in this confrontation was to get Dean out. The more Sam did to keep Wandell off guard with the unexpected, the higher the chances of this ending on a high note.

At least that is what he told himself despite his apprehension. Sam was sure he could talk Holley down and explain things. He regretted Steve Wandell's death, but he was only the weapon to Meg's trigger.

"DEAN! This has to end. You know it."

"RUN, SAM!" Dean bellowed from somewhere. His voice splattered out like shards of excited broken glass.

"Shut up!" A woman screamed, smacking something, or more likely someone, hard.

"I think you better come for a little visit!" She yelled from the barn structure. "Or do you want the next thing you hear to be a bullet between his eyes?"

There was no doubt Sam would come. He marched closer, moving as quickly as necessary precaution allowed him. His hands busied giving Bobby signals and messages along the way. "Holley! Don't... He's..."

"My, my. You boys are better than the average bear."

"I'm coming. I know it's me you want. Don't hurt him."

"Oh, well. Too damn late. You should have told me that sooner."

"Sammy! RUN DAMMIT!" The bellow ended in a bumpy and sinuous strain.

A thin whimper of words floated into Sam's throat, and he wasn't sure if anyone else could hear him. "I can't."

Carefully, he reached out, grasping the sealed door with expectation ripe on his face. One way or another he prepared himself for what he was about to see. The creaking barn door gave way easily under his prying fingers.

Just for the briefest second, he saw Dean's neck stressing under the pressure of a woman's boot, instantly knowing why his brother had not been able to call out again. Dean's face was pale, turning a slight blue for lack of air.

"I have something to settle with Dean. We can talk about this." Sam lifted his hands high like a magician having nothing up his sleeve.

"Leave him alone!" Wanda screamed.

"He trusted you!" Gladys kicked a patch of hay towards Sam. "Can't you leave him in peace!"

"Good to see you, Sam." Holley twirled a stick between her fingers, showed Sam ever so briefly a match, and flicked it against the callous of her finger, sparking it to life.

Suddenly, Sam was struck by the smell of gasoline in the air- pure and saturated. He scrambled to reach his brother, taking in the fact Holley had more than Dean captive. Before he crossed the barn's threshold, the match landed between his lanky legs. A firestorm popped in a ball, spreading like an epidemic out the door.


	12. Embers

**Author's note: I won't even suggest I just wrote this cause you know I did! LOL! I swear I'll finish it, but I am really taken in by the novel I am working on. Hopefully, once I finish it, I can get it published. Anyway, back to Sam and Dean....**

* * *

Sheer heat slam danced against Sam, tossing him like a plastic shopping back during in a hurricane. No matter how the flames licked around the barn, Sam couldn't let go now- not when they were close. He had to get to Dean. Just had to! If anything happened to his brother after all this, especially without making amends, Sam was sure any part of his own humanity could writher in the fire too. If it meant injury, burns, or death, he would reach and save Dean. His arm flew upward to cover his face, trying to see a way into the blaze. Remotely, he registered someone hoisting him up.

"Holy Shit. This gal's a nutter!" Bobby always seemed to have a special ways to state the obvious.

"Dean!" Sam shove into the opening as the flames swatted him back out of the door.

"Kid, we're coming. Lady! You think of hurting that boy…" Using his jacket, Bobby batted at the flames attempting to batter the blaze down enough to get inside.

It didn't take long for Sam to join him. Both men worked at the vicious flares with frenzy. Ignoring any pain in their limbs, they swung in perpetual, though useless, effort. Smoke clung acidic in their lungs as their bellows searched for a response from within, and each moment of silence only spired more urgency to their struggle.

"We're coming!" Sam bellowed. "He was down when…"

"How far in?"

"About midway and she's got others with him- towards the back I saw them before..."

When Bobby's jacket smoldered, he streamed a string of curse words. Black flumes rumbled around the lining, bursting in flames before he could blink. "This is about as useless as pissin in the wind. We need another way!."

Already reaching the same conclusion, Sam searched for any means, including themomentary idea to crash the Impala through, which he abandoned since the structure would likely collapse with such damage. Absently he forgot his footing, cracking the glare of ice upon a frozen pond. His foot slipped on a small pebble causing his body to turn, forcing his focus to shift. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied an ax jammed into a piece of wood. He wasn't aware of how he stirred so quickly and decisively, but the weapon was in his hand without thought. Madly striding towards the entrance, he snarled a in guttural urgency. "MOVE!" His arm swung, crashing the sharp blade into a boarded up window. "Dean!"

Among all the popping and snapping, they heard Dean's voice, yowling indistinguishable words. "We hear ya! We're coming!" But they didn't hear Dean again. Even the sound of sister's screams drowned in the sizzling barn. Every once and a while, they could make out the women exclaiming Dean's name too.

* * *

As the starved barn wood succumbed to rising flames, Dean fought just as fiercely, yanking and struggling against the cuffs. If he had any chance of Sam or the sisters surviving this, he'd have to do something and fast. When the next flare sparked, Dean sprang, using any and all reserves to lunge forward, breaking the weakened grill free, and tackling Holley. Using the metal attached to his cuffed hand, he swung it madly at her head, colliding it with a solid thump.

If he had been up to par, the battle would have definitively been over. As it was, he managed only to slow her down. Bending her body gymnastically, she kept her balance and return hurdled him. Immediately, she snatched at him, locking arms to block his means of defense. A smile of twisted pleasure played on her blood red lips.

Without warning, a soft, ominous voice banged inside of Dean's mind. "Escape this Hell. Live for me, Dean. Go on now. Remember I love you. Can you remember that? Promise me that. Promise."

"Mom... please." Even though the voice came from the recess of his memories, his fingers searched for her hand to take his just like she did when she helped him as a child to cross the street. He only found himself comforting Holley.

The unwelcome touch fueled her ire. "YOU HAVE TO DIE!" Plowing a fist into Dean's unsuspecting jaw, Holley knocked him out of her grasp. Before the blow had a chance to register, she struck viper quick to his abdomen.

"Stop- just stop." His posture unruffled, reaching for the girl that had to have been a loving daughter one. "My family is gone too. I tried to give you want you want. Give you a price for his death. But not like this. We're alike. Stop this now. Your father wouldn't want you to be a killer. He's gone, but if he could tell you..."

"SHUT UP!

"You have to stop this. Get out of here with me!" Dean pleaded to Holley. "None of this is right, but don't let this be the last memory- last memorial to your father!"

In some respects, Dean had been lucky after his father died. He had Bobby and Sam to keep him from the path this young woman had obviously traveled. If he had been alone, he would have probably gone just as barmy as Holley. "Help me save them. Do what a hunter does- save people."

Reason and compassion were too late. Her mind and soul had gone livid sour with her grief. She balled her fists, clenching so tightly her own nails dug blood grooves in her palms. The only thing she craved now was his death.

Locking his legs, Dean forced his body to shake off the soft damage to his flesh, holding out until Sam could save Wanda and Gladys. Holley lunged, swinging wildly. When she was an inch away, he shifted, letting her pass like an irritated, uncoordinated bull, but the move took the edge from his carefully forced balance.

"BASTARD!" She arched towards him, searching for Dean's throat, ready to chew out his jugular. At the last possible moment, he shifted sloppily and dismally, only managing to alter her aim. Teeth barred. She sank her molars into the flesh of his shoulder, drilling downward in his skin.

Then a splintering crash impacted behind him, wood and fire flying as the barn shifted and groaned. The shock of sound enough to free the toothy grip on his flesh. Like or not, Dean punched her, flying her backward. Mere seconds of a glance confirmed the presence Bobby and Sam.

The ax battered at the wood, leaving a yawning opening to the bitter winter outside. "DEAN!" Sam bellowed through the cracking heat.

"GET DOWN!" Dean warned as the fire sparked new life in the oxygen rich opening. He had to rely on faith that Sam reacted in time as he had no opportunity to check.

Holley was on him again before he could take a step. "No. You'll get what you deserve. Both of you!"

"Listen to me." A breath panted, soft and comforting. "A demon destroyed your family." He swung her close to him, whispering in her ear. "Stop this. I know what it's like to have family taken from you. To know that love exists and something can rip it from you. We have to get out of here. Come with me."

Her only response was a stamp to his foot, knowing he was still weakened from earlier.

"DEAN!" A gruff grumbled coughed through the smoke. Bobby leaped over fallen debris.

"GET THEM!" Dean screamed, hoping they could hear him above the roar of the blaze. He could distinguish yells from the sisters, but the clogging smoke muffled them out. He knew Wanda and Gladys were trapped and he had to allow time for Sam to save them. "Get them now!"

Hearing him or not, Bobby took off, noticing the woman straight away. After several strong attempts to free the post, Bobby took off his flannel shirt, ripped it in two with his teeth. "Cover your face and turn your head!" He barked, slamming the ax at the center of the chain. When the metal split, he howled orders. "Run! Now!"

In the confusion, Sam moved forward, battling a path to join Dean. With a bound, Sam extended his legs out in a move that would make Jackie Chan consider him for stunt work. Holley rolled an inch back to avoid his blow. Sam noticed the sweat, partly from the heat, but more from exertion, drenching down Dean's forehead. For the slightest of seconds, Dean flashed reluctance at Sam's presence, but it just as quickly faded

"We have to get out of here. Come with us." Dean pleaded.

A snap! Several planks and rust tin from the roof nagged above them. More showers of embers and tinder rained down. A nugget of hot wood burned at Sam's cheek. Reacting instantly, Dean latched around Sam's waist, whirling him away from the danger. For a brief second, Sam lost his bearing and fumbled with Dean barely keeping his brother upright.

CLICK! GROAN! CRUNK! The fire clawed and burrowed, demolishing the large wooden beam holding the roof of the barn. Dean held his breath, unlatching his hold on Sam. Holley noticed the falling 2 X 4 first, but made no indication of caring. Dean had already moved in its path in effort to reach her-save her.

Sam sprinted a few seconds behind Dean, pumping his long legs to recover the lead Dean had on him. Sam heard the creak as his fingers reached out to grab Dean's shirt collar, scrambling to pull him to safety. However, Dean was moving and Sam's grip found hot air.

Then, the beam rocketed down as if propelled by a force greater than just gravity. Raining embers fell in torrents. Before he felt the impact of the fall, he heard it. The noise was like a crack of thunder directly in his ears and in its wake, a wave of pain shot through Dean.

The sheer force rattled Sam off his feet. The divide between him and Dean might as well have been a country as he watched the heavy beam take his brother down, pinning him. "NO!"

A shot of sheer of pain skewered up hit his left leg, equally as painful as being hurdled to the barn's earthen ground. Stunned, he tried to get up, but was forced back down by a blinding sharp pain and the weight of the beam across him.

Pushing at the hot wood beam, he scooted an immeasurable amount, realizing that his left leg was useless, dragging more than following any movement he commanded. Blood trickled down his leg soaking his pants as a blood bath poured out. Gingerly, he touched his side and shocked when his hand came back extremely bloody. A ragged piece of wood jammed inside his leg, letting his life spill away. Head swimming, he felt heavy like he was dipped in cement. Face faded milk pale as the air in Dean's lungs clogged thick with smoke, inducing the urge for sleep.

Holley sprawled next to him with a painful looking gash in her side. Blood guzzled from her at an alarming rate. Her fury filled gaze stabbed at him but a seductive winning smile curved her lips despite the death rattle growled in her throat.

"Why wouldn't you let me save you?" Dean huffed in a breath of air, seeking for clean oxygen he would never find in this inferno.

"At least I got revenge." She forced a laugh, and then as if she were a light popping out, she fell into eternal darkness. Suddenly her face was just as bloodless as her last words had been.

Her laughter rolled like dark mist, dragging Dean down with her. But, it wasn't her laughter pulling at him. The sound came from a memory of Hell of something ready to deliver him to a world to twisted absurd torment. His eyes closed briefly, but he snapped them open, forcing himself to fight for a second. It was enough to find a strangely distended vision of Sam and Bobby. "Get- get out." Finally, he was swallowed by the pain, heat, and smoke, giving into unconsciousness.

"Son of a bitch. No." Sam rasped in a voice in a hushed whisper. All the air knocked out of him and he could catch his breath as he scrambled for Dean. He felt Bobby pulling him and pushing him to move. "Dean!"


	13. Forced Promise

Dean awoke, or he at least he thought he had. Instead, he fumbled in his memories while he waited for the billows to jam down his throat, taking his last breath. His mind raced backwards, propelling him to endure and relive his Hell experience. Yet, it all felt too close and too real now. With all his energy, he wrangled to stay alert, hide from the plague of his past.

Vague, oozing blackness rocketed all around him, whirling and swirling like a nexus. As the wriggling dark mass detoured around him, stinging barbs lashed out into his flesh. Falling. Ripping. Falling. Faster and Faster. Harder. Even though the fall took only a few seconds, it felt strung-out dawdling- forever.

Finally, his body bungeed back upward into the spider web of chains and hooks. Instinctively, he knew where he was- eternal damnation. Even a great fool would realize that. An intricate nebulous of chains wrapped around him, diving hook spikes to ensure no escape.

Hopelessness never really did stop Dean, though. He had to do what he knows best- fight. Yanking the curved metal from his shoulder blade, he didn't offer any signs of yielding or breaking this easily. Just as a crackle of heat poured into him and surrounded him, more metal drove into his body, trapping. He worked feverishly, ignoring the pain. The sharp instruments impaled him like a pig on the spit.

Dad crawled out! I can do this! I can do this! I can find a way.

Feverishly, he toiled to wrench hooks from his muscles and flesh, as more metallic tentacles came alive to bind him- gore him. They sank in, almost as if something could live in this land of death. Regardless of how he tried to protect himself, he was soon overwhelmed. Energy spent, he milled his teeth in rebellion.

Feisty!" A guttural whisper scraped away in his eardrum. "It's better when they fight."

The voice emerged from the blackness all about him, but he couldn't perceive exactly from where. He had imagined hordes of demons jockeying for who tortured him first. There was certainly a long line of them back in Hell because of him or his family. So far, he had only seen other trapped souls. He could see the torment they experienced, but was useless to save them. He strived several times to make himself believe if he could get free, he could help them. After all, they were just poor miserable bastards like him. With renewed zeal, he began resists again, but so did the powers of Hell.

"Yes!" The voice said. "Stupid! Stupid Dean!" The omnipresent thing spoke with another cadence of voice.

It was then Dean realized the blackness wasn't just a dark to dull your senses. Thousands of bitter souls and demons whirled in a clustered mesh around them, and when he stopped fighting his bonds, they ripped at him, tearing and filleting his flesh. When that pain increased, he shrieked soundlessly, not ready to give Hell the satisfaction of his voice. His body bucked, twisted, and turned seeking relief, but none came. Fire, chaos, and pain. This was his new realm, a personal world of pain. Souls screamed around him- banging creatures slamming into each other as they tried to gnaw a way out.

Day after Day, Year after year. Time dragged thread thin, long and frayed. Things He knew that he was surrounded by demons. Dean attempted to track of how many dark souls tormented him, but he lost the first few minutes, much less in the time that passed now.

And so the torment began again. "You're my favorite!" A demon hissed.

He wouldn't let scream. He wouldn't. Time after time. Lost and bleeding. More and More. The pain heightened. A solitary groan passed his lips before his vision dimmed. He found himself wondering if spirits could die. The thought of being nothing became most appealing in this world of everlasting torment. He prayed he could just shed his skin and wish himself out of existence.

Heat wrapped a roasting fist around his chest. Demons rolled and spiraled like pinwheels around him, slashing and ripping- gutting and skinning- as they spun out of control. And when he thought it would be over, his body returned whole like the breaking dawn.

"STOP!" His teeth chattered as he gave up to the hopelessness of his position.

"Dean!" For the briefest of moments, he thought the onyx void beckoned to taunt him as had happened many times before, but this voice was sweetly strange and familiar.

The labyrinth chains shuttered as he only wondered if some newly arrived sucker grappled to breakaway just as he did that first day. That was so long ago. So many years without his family- without anything, but promises of pain and deals that would destroy his soul. "Don't fight. They only like to hurt you more." Despite his intentions, whoever it was struggled fiercer like a fly on a glue trap. Shocks of movement sparked alive new pain in the hooks which skewered in his own flesh.

"Dean! No, please!" He heard again as the shock waves in his bindings grew white hot. It was at this moment of pain he felt a sense of sweetness rush to him. His lungs pushed out the putrid air of Hell and found the scent of honeysuckle and vanilla. A voice, like wind chimes singing on the wind, sent a message that only he could distinguish among the swarm of voices.

How can anything so wonderful be in this putrid mess?

"Dean."

Any doubt should have left him, but he wouldn't let his mind go there. Her face was sunken- haggard- but still so beautiful. The joy that once held in her eyes shattered seeing his face. This had to be another mind game- a new form of pain. "Mom?"

"Let go of my SON!" She screamed, ripping his chains free, wrapping her body around him as a shield. The chain fetter sought a hold in him, bashing in her protective flesh.

"Mom! No! You can't.

"Leave my baby alone!" Mary pulled at the tears in Dean's flesh, inspecting him to verify the horror that her son was in Hell. "No, you can't be here. Not you."

His eyes, shocked wide, fixed on her. He tried to retreat from her arms, shaking his head in disbelief, refusing that any of it was real. He tried to escape her grasp, but it was too late. She drew him to her, keeping the demons and chains from him.

Grasping him tightly as she had when he was young and scared beyond belief. "Sugar pie." A whispered name spilled in his ear- a lullaby.

"How do you know that!"

"Cause you're- You're my Baby. She stroked his cheek and tears splattered from her fractured heart. "Do you remember that day? Tell me you do."

"Mom?"

"We tried to surprise your father with his favorite apple pie. And I turned around-"

"NO! NOT YOU MOM! NO!"

"Shh… I'm here. Let me look at you. Please." She wiped a tear biting at the corner of his eye. "You're still my- my- You don't remember do you?" Her voice fractured.

"I do. I do." He spouted obediently. "I broke grandma's sugar bowl and you- You didn't even yell at me."

"You were covered in sugar, trying to jigsaw the broken pieces together- Put all of our pieces together." He vacuous words pulled her miles and years away. "My Sugar Pie."

No one could know Mary called him that. John disapproved of the nickname, but her defiant streak only made her say it more.

"What did you do! This is wrong! How..." She challenged, glaring up as if someone owed her.

"They...they..." He stuttered pulling away to see her face.

"No! Stay close. I won't let them hurt you. Shhhh. You can't be here. Not my- not my."

Words ran dry as Dean gorged with sorrow. "YOU CAN'T BE HERE!"

"There are things you don't understand. Things I've done. And it sacrificed an innocence that you have never known. I took it from you. I'm- I'm so sorry. My beautiful son. You're all I ever really wanted and I damned you to a life- to- I never wanted this."

"I'll find a way to get you out. I swear." He shook his head rebuffing the idea of his mother being here in this place. "Dad got out. We can find the same way. Sam will find the colt and open the gate one day. I know he will."

"John's was here?!"

Dean nodded as if he were about to get in trouble for stealing cookies.

"Why- Why did he- He was the more tender- How could he deserve-"

He sobbed, sucking it back to keep from appearing weak. Hating the way he sniffled, Dean imagined himself holding his breath. He was sure that breathing was an impossibility in Hell, but the illusion of it seemed really enough.

"He did it for you." A rich realization flared on her expression- soft and regretful.

Again, Dean veered from her gaze, trying to hide from shame."

Her hand cupped his face. "We both loved you. You have to know that. I didn't know he was here. I never saw him- heard him like I did with you."

"You heard me?"

"Even if you whispered. I know my son."

"We have to get you out. Sam will find the colt and open the gate one day. I know he will. Whoever did this to you-"

"I did this to me. I'm here to pay for the mistake I made."

"Don't say that! Don't ever-" He sucked in a hard breath and when he spoke his voice was lilted. "They took you. Sam'll kill Lilith and come for us. He'll let us out. We just have to find the door and wait.

"No. Lilith's free? MY GOD."

"What? Sam can do it."

"No, he can't. You have to go back."

"We're going to." He agreed.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea until I left this world how badly I failed you both."

Dean's head lobbed to the side and his eyelids fluttered. He folded in his mother's arms to warmth and safety,

"Easy...easy...I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. God, please....PLEASE! Not him- not my babies!"

Suddenly, a flash of brilliance broke the darkness and it seemed as if peace itself took hold of the very bowels of Hell. Everything froze. A quiet spread over the denizens of the pit except for the cacophony panic of demons scurrying to find a place to hide. Dark onyx wings unfurled, thick as the demon fog and surrounded Mary and Dean, sheltering them in his keeping.

When she finally felt safe enough to let Dean go, she lingered longer just holding him- hugging him now.

"Do you think this is the first prayer uttered in Hell? Time is short." The creature demanded, breaking up any sentiment that lingered in Mary.

After Mary stopped hugging Dean, she lashed out at the presence. She fisted his chest, but the man didn't change an expression on his sharp, angular face. "YOU LIED! YOU PROMISED!"

"I did not promise. You know who spoke to you. I am simply a messenger- a warrior."

"You let him fall. Fall to this... NOT HIM! DAMN YOU!"

"The choice was his."

"This game wasn't his. You moved them-played us all."

"Not I. The choice was yours first. Free will-"

"I did this. Cursed them. They'll destroy all his worth- break him to nothing. This is my curse! Mine!" Mary beat another fist to the taller being's chest, who reacted as if she were hitting immovable stone.

"No you didn't! I did this! Mom, get away. Don't..." The stranger raised a hand, instantly shushing Dean silent.

"Do you break down and fall now? After all those nights of asking him to believe. Choice. That is the very essence of humanity. The question- you know what it means. Decide who will walk the road."

"God, please."

"Do you? Or the son? I can bring him back. Slate clean as Eden six day. I found you in this dark corner of this crowd; I can leave just as easily. How many prayers do you think get answered? Decide now." For the first time, Dean recognized a strange bitter regret flash in the man's world weary and sunken eyes. When those eyes turned to him, he squirmed uncomfortably under the creature's inspection. "So jaded for one so naïve to the universe."

"You could never understand how wonderful that is." Mary defended, offering a gentle smile to Dean.

"That is not my purpose." The black winged thing stared vacant as if trying to figure out a puzzle. "I only do as I am commanded. Have you chosen?"

Suddenly, she rushed to her son. "I'll get you out of here. It's okay!" Mary frowned. Her hands fretted with the bristle on Dean's chin. Without thought, he sank his face in the cup of her hand, seeking refuge in her love.

"Take him!"

"NO!" No matter what power this strange winged thing had, Dean broke free of the seal on his voice. "Stay the hell away from us!"

"The choice is made!"

"MOM!"

She reached out and laid her fingers over Dean's, exploring them as if she had never known the love of her child. "Listen to me- listen to me. You have to do this. You have to go."

"I can't... can't..."

"You can."

"I won't leave you."

"You will now. You have to promise me- promise to live?"

"No."

"Be happy? Make what I destroyed right again? I need you to do this. For me. For Sam."

"Take her! Take her!"

"The choice is not yours. It was her prayer after all."

"Damn You!" He flew a punch harder and quicker than Mary ever could, but the man grabbed it, swung around, and grasped Dean's back against him.

"You don't get a choice in this. She understands the promise."

The stranger's touch felt like hot iron on his shoulder blade-a different sort of pain that Dean couldn't quite name.

"Dean! PROMISE!" I love you. Always did. Always will. Go back and be free. I can endure anything, but watching them destroy you too."

Water welled in Dean's eyes which dried quickly on his heated skin. "No... Mom..." Surprisingly the creature's hold loosened, letting Dean voluntarily fall to his knees. He reached out for Mary as his heart malfunctioned.

"We don't have time. I had so little time with you and you turned out better than I ever dreamed. The day I saw you and Sam- grown- so handsome and strong. This was all worth that day. That day was worth a million Hells! You don't deserve to be here. I'm supposed to make a good life for you- take care of you. Let me do that. I need to be a mother to you now. I failed before, but not now. You want that right? You want me to be a part of who you are?"

"You know I do. You know I did all of this for you- for Sam- for Dad."

"Then do this for me now! Say it!"

"No!"

"Say it!"

He shook his head, turning away from the sting of her words. She grasped his chin, forcing him to look at again.

"Promise me? It's all I want. You can't deny me this last wish." Her irises widened, slick with wetness.

He had seen the look before- when she cuddled with him a blanket, baked him cookies, showed him how to cut Christmas snowflakes, kissed his cuts, loved him. In her eyes long ago he was the world and nothing bad ever happened. "I can't leave you. I need to take you home."

"I'm already home." He fingers shifted over his heart. "I always have my boys. Nothing can take that. I want you to live and not try to come back here for me. The world needs you now. Sam needs you. And if I spend eternity in this pit, I'll be happy knowing you are safe. Say it for me."

He couldn't deny her request. She had seen enough pain in this place. If it gave her a brief happiness in this place he would lie. "I promise?"

"You heard him- he'll be-"

"He will not be able to break his word."

"Promise me, Castiel!"

"The promise is not mine, but his word will be law."

"You know him! How... how did- YOU TRICKED ME?"

"Where do think you got those skills?" She laughed sweetly. "You are so much like John in your heart, but the rest of you is all me."

He scrunched his face as if to protest. "Mom, don't do this. Let me take it back. You know I have to save you. You know what this will do to me. I can't..."

"Listen, things will happen and you will bear so much. Just do what you think is right. You were always good at that."

"I'll come for you, Mom."

"You cannot free her."

"No! I'll bust this place to pieces with my bare hands if I have to!"

"And YOU-" Castiel drew out his word, giving Dean the first indication of a smile, almost as if he just gave Dean a riddle to solve, challenging him. "YOU will always fail--- at least in this task. This is her price."

"But I lied! I didn't mean-"

"Lie or not- it has been spoken. Binding."

"DAMN YOU!" Dean made an advance that was short-lived. Mary blocked his path. "Trust the angel, Dean. He'll take you...." She collapsed in his arms. "I told you angels were watching over us. You have to believe that. This is my fault. My damn legacy. I wanted so much better for you boys."

"I love you too much. I- I can't." He wailed a sob. "Don't ask me to do this."

"I'm not asking you. This is what I want- what you can't change. In time, please forgive me. I- Escape this Hell. Live for me, Dean. Go on now. Remember I love you- more than anything I have ever done. I had you. Can you remember that? Promise me that. Promise? A real promise."

Dean's lip quivered, shaking so hard he had to fight to speak. "You know I will. I always knew that even when I was little. I-" Tears streamed down his check as he refused to blink and lose sight of her.

"Shh...I love you, Sugar Pie."

"We have to go," Castiel's tone was flat and patient without the slightest indication he cared about ripping Dean's family apart.

"Goodbye Baby. Tell Sam how much I love him- need you both to have that."

"No, I won't leave her!" Then he felt a sudden yank on his shoulder and the world felt rushed and compact.


	14. Rescue

**Author's Note: Howdy all! Hope your holiday was good. I had some drama that kept me away, but I'm like a cat, landing on its feet. Anyway, back to what you want (or I hope you want!) Hope to update tomorrow or the next day.**

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Sizzle, crack, groan, snap. On and on the pyre devoured, consuming barn timber, scorching each splinter to ash and dust. The inferno thrashed, tearing fiery teeth into the winter dry wood that struggled to maintain some sense of its former structure. Groaning, the rusted nails strained, just barely gripping the remaining tinders together. Amid the inferno, Dean settled stagnant and helpless as the fire gorged on anything in its path, leaving not a shred whole in its wave.

"DEAN!" Sam barked, sucking in the throat coating, charcoal thick smoke. He surged to his brother, gasping and ignoring danger and self-preservation. If saving Dean meant undertaking the suicidal notion of burning alive, so be it. His intention clear, he squinted in expectation at Bobby, offering his friend a cop out of the situation. He owed Bobby at least the option, but he found denial with a simple salute.

"Not in this or any lifetime." Bobby slithered with a sudden push forward while his friend dodged seething, cascading embers.

Both skidded, skimmed, dived, and shoved the deadly obstacle course with a determination beyond doubt or question of success. Each sought out more than the sinewy road to redemption and forgiveness. At the end of all things, losing Dean had been losing an integral piece of themselves. Facing it again sparked unimaginable, but they felt it as surely as the flames spread in sadistic countdown.

Fire adorned each wall, circling the Winchesters like wagons in classic westerns. Flames, heat, and smoke wrestled to decide who would snatch life first. Debris, ashes, and cinders swirled and slashed at Bobby and Sam with every step. Suddenly, the fire blasted through the roof, opening up a sweltering cavity above them and flinging hot tin down in a metallic holocaust. Sam sprang, whirled, and plunged forward, landing next to Dean.

Soaring beyond the most recent fire downpour, Bobby somersaulted, landing clumsily on his knees. Crawling the next few feet, he tested how wedged Dean was under the vast beam. Not even the slightest budge could be made against the mammoth restraint. Bobby lunged over the beam, reaching out a hand to test Dean's pulse. "Quick, but he's with us."

Sam swiped a hand across his face to his stinging eyes, clearing a track of soot from the burn on his cheek. Sam and Bobby's lungs protested from the tar pitch stockpiling inside of them. Even breathing didn't seem as important, at least not in regards to themselves. The saving relief was to see Dean breathing in shallow pants.

Bobby yanked the skewering wood out of Dean's leg, whipped off his belt, and slapped it above the largest part of Dean's thigh, cinching a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. One mission accomplished, he glanced at Sam briefly, but found adrenaline already propelled the youngest Winchester.

Shedding his down to t-shirt, Sam wrapped his flannel over the sparking flares at the end of the beam, snuffing the fire's life out enough to clench his long arms about it. As specks of fire bit Sam's hand with razor sharp flicks, he remained stoic-trapped only in horror of the threat that his brother's motionless frame would soon be overtaken. His face morphed with frantic determination. Each man grabbed an end of the beam, straining until the veins on their arms stood in solider attention.

"No good!" Bobby shoved the biggest plank he could find, driving it as far under wood, bearing his weight on it. Yet, the beam only shifted, slamming into the raw leg wound.

Eyes shot wild, screaming panic in harmony with the timbre of Dean's voice. "NO! MOM!" Trashing, he fought in opposition of his captivity. To him, the battle was far beyond in his former home of hellfire. His head panged from the force split from Hell.

A steadying hand reached for him, shaking with Sam's expectation. "Easy. I won't let you burn."

The sudden intrusion upon his arm startled Dean. A cringe resurrected from within, awaiting the piercing, boring of chains into him. He balked. The blackness of his pupil boomed to the rim of his iris, cancelling out any shred of the gentle green, as if fear pried his eyes wide to see all the horrors the hereafter had for him. Then the emerald forced itself back, challenging to find focus. Yet, all he discovered was painful memories, his mind finding a hold on reality as fruitless as water holds in a rusted pipe. Dean's left arm rose oddly and pure maddening pain tore from him.

"No. We can't let him die like this! I can't let him die!" Even the sound of the words terrified Sam. Again, his brother marked by death like an unending bastard attendance call. All the skill of his father and the demon blood within him were useless- powerless. Not even reaching for his own dark power formed a barrier to rescue Dean.

"STOP!" Dean bellowed, waving one arm madly. The other began to flop without direction. The socket swelling with its own sodden heat.

"Hold on." Sam demanded. "There has to be a way."

As if on autopilot, Dean raged against his time in hell as if yelling a protest to heaven, confessing and damning the way things were. Secret pain falling away from thickly coated lungs. Only the sweltering heat proved strong enough to swallow away his words. No matter how he rallied against Mary's promise, the end would result in the same- her falling forever to the darkness of Hell. "Mom!"

"It'll be okay, kid. DAMMIT!" Bobby's grip slackened. It wasn't often the Winchester boys shocked him. Sadly, he wished it wasn't today. "We got to get more leverage. "

"Don't- don't do it." Dean cried, reaching out to emptiness.

"We won't leave you. I swear." Sam gave him a nudge. "I promise."

Yet, Dean wasn't truly with them. His mind had wandered to deep in painful flashback. The pang of losing Mary sank him, leaving his mind scrambling in a loop of torment.

"What's wrong with him!"

"Having a fit!" Bobby adjusted Dean's left arm, shielding it from the flames.

"Get away from him." Wanda screamed.

"I told you to git!" Bobby glared. "Damn tarn fired women!"

"Not without him! Here, wrap this around the beam." Tossing a rust chain, Wanda ringed it close enough for the men to reach. "And no funny business or you won't make it out either!"

"Hightail it!" He barked a response, but Bobby's demands, if heard, were not obeyed.

"No man tells us what to do." Gladys perched on top of the tractor, stomping on the throttle as it refusing chugged to a quivering start.

Wanda wrapped a short chain around the beam, giving both men a suspicious stare. "ON THREE!"

"Screw that! On one!" Bobby yelped. "NOW, NOW!"

Gladys set the tractor in motion, driving it straight towards the door, crashing it through as the chain freed Dean. The fire swarmed with newly oxygenated fuel source and it hissed out a fire bolt from a pissed off dragon. They drove down, hitting whatever coverage they could find. Barreling in a swooping sheer dive, Sam covered Dean. When the sudden influx of new life finally subsided enough, they moved.

When Sam's stance lacked elegance, his intention took on a carefully rush gentleness. He scooped Dean over his shoulder, balancing him carefully even as Dean wiggled and trashed in fight. He managed to secure his brother enough to make a break for the opening. Sam hurdled through and over obstacles as if in an Olympic sprint until he rolled out in tow with Dean. Bobby, in the meantime, shoved and marched Wanda out in front of him. Just as they crossed the crash made threshold, the barn succumbed to the damage, tumbling with a thunderclap to the ground.

Sam's knees quivered as he lowered Dean down trying to assess his brother's condition. The striking cold skittered to him now in vast contrast to the stifling punishing fire. It helped him to keep on going in spite of the feeling of though he were about to collapse and probably would have had he not Dean to care for.

With vulture speed, Wanda walloped Sam with a cracking whack. "How could you! He's your family!"

"No!" He shifted Dean towards him, shielding and covering Dean with as much as Sam's frame would allow a hold on the struggling man. "He wouldn't hurt you! He tried to save you!"

"You stay away!" Gladys uneasily climbed off the tractor, her legs bending and bowing as she tested her footing on the ground.

"Whoa! Easy there!" Bobby reasoned and was thanked with a smack of his own.

"Whatever game you are playing. You... You..." Wanda thwacked Sam's head again. Then, just for good measure, she picked up a broken branch as warning that she meant business.

Sam swathed Dean as best he could, keeping his obscure from the sister's assault. "This isn't his fault. Stop."

"Of course it isn't his fault. You- You murderer!" Gladys poked Bobby's side, driving him a step further from Dean.

"Shit fire and taters!" If he weren't a gentleman, Bobby would have seriously thought of pushing back.

"Get away from him! Don't you dare hurt him." Wanda crowned Sam with a large stick thwack on his head.

"Eooouooowww"

Trusting that the voice of reason would at least stop the immediate onslaught, Bobby hoped to gain enough time for he and Sam to bolt with Dean. "Hold up. We ain't here to hurt him."

"You just get back or I'll..." Her stick raised high, Wanda whooshed the air in warning.

"What? Yell me to death." Placing his hand up, Bobby looked like he was about to give in. "Play Punch and Judy with my head?"

Gladys hauled back a fist, packing a good punch.

"WHOA!" He grabbed her swing, and found Wanda bashed his legs with her claimed oversized switch. "DAMMMIT! Listen, I know this is confusing, but we won't hurt him. We didn't come all this way to find him."

Dean struggled against Sam, calling for help- screaming for Mary. The swelling in his left shoulder saturated, bruising up to his collarbone. "MOM! NO! Don't make me!"

"I supposed he is fighting because he feels so safe with you? Let that child go." Wanda smacked Bobby leaving cane size marks on his legs until he freed Gladys.

"We're on the same page." The only hold Bobby had over the situation was the chaotic attempt to keep the sisters at bay and off Sam and Dean.

"And you killed that girl's father! And got him-" She swung her wood javelin around in a grand slam, forcing Bobby to jump out of the way. Just when Wanda was about to strike another round, a strange sounding voice whipped the action to a standstill. They all stopped fighting for a moment, except Dean

"I killed him. I know." Sam glanced up. "It's all my fault. Everything I touched, but he needs me. Can't you hear him suffering?"

Finally, Bobby glared at Sam's audacity. "I swear! SAM! You need whupped to kingdom come! I have mind to let these hell cats have at ya. Wandell wasn't your fault. You couldn't have saved him that day. Dean-."

"Tell it to Holley. Dean tried to save her. He tried!" Sam turned his focus to his brother, the sound of his ragged breaths, the shifting of his alarmed frame, and the sound of pain each movement caused. "You just had to play the hero, didn't you?" He started, accusation thick in this stuffed-up voice as he looked at Dean. He blinked as his eyes burned. "You tried. And she's gone too just because I was weak."

"You can't control EVERYTHING. Meg was about as plum crazy as that kid in there. She killed him. Hell, Dean knew you couldn't have done a damn thing- the shape you were in. You couldn't have saved Wandell then or his daughter now. Damn, Dean couldn't even find a way to reach her. You know him- how he…" Bobby licked his lips, shaking his head. "It's the things you set right that makes you, boy. Dean knows that. He fought for you- for them in there." He nodded a head at the sisters, not caring if they were along for the ride of this conversation or not. "Don't soil that now with misplaced guilt. Today I saw the courage that always made me fight alongside of you. Dean's selflessness and your blind faith in him. "

"He didn't hurt?" Wanda kept her hand fisted.

"Course not! You don't understand. All of this is a mistake." Bobby dropped his guard, watching to see if the sisters were about to pull pit bull duty to protect Dean again. "But, I'm guessin' you got to know Dean a bit and can see that this..."

"It's still my fault. What I did. Mistakes I've made."

"Go ahead, smack HIM again. Damn dunderhead." He took a step backing, offering to stand aside to let Wanda and Gladys have a good shot at Sam.

Sam looked up, his eyes flickering with confusion with the sisters locking in on his gaze. "Just let me help him and I'll explain everything. If I can! I just..."

Dean cried out in a vision, lost to his surroundings, deep in the memory of his mother. He fell back against Sam. Stunned and Raging. Then all thoughts of murder and responsibility were lost to his panic filled screams

"Dean!" Bobby yelled as he whirled around to see the boy flailing desperately. He quickly pressed on Dean's leg, giving it more than a once over inspection. "It's not too bad!" He tightened the notch on his belt, being extra careful of the allowing enough circulation in the leg.

However, Dean locked in some part of his experience in Hell, dodging, shoving, and prying away from Sam to slam into Bobby's open arms.

"Alright now. Boy… Heaven help... Please." Shaking his hands like a child firing his first big gun, Bobby latched around him. "Easy."

Dean just leaned into it and he felt hands guiding him. There were no inches between them. His head slapped hard down on Bobby's shoulder, whirling up a mouthful of soot inside him. When he began to cough, a hand created small circles over his back.

"Breathe. Thatta boy."

Rasping out more coughs, Dean heaved up black oozing flem, which curdled with more sediment than liquid. The black substance hung tight to the corner of his lip as he tried to rally and speak. He mumbled distantly, sounding as if his voice had to transgress a maze of glop in his lungs, zigging and zagging to find escape. He rested his head against Bobby and pleaded in unawareness, whispering repeatedly. "Take Mom back. Not me. Make it stop. Make it stop."

"We'll sort it out." Bobby reassured.

He raised the energy, striking out from the depths at Castiel with blows that would find only Bobby. "You....can't..." Still lost in the vision and fighting, Dean jarred free from Bobby's grasp, flopping his back against Sam.

"Dean. It's- It's me. Please, I came for you to- to."

Moving forward, Gladys shoved Sam back a few inches to get to Dean. "Sweetie Pie? You come on back now."

"Mom?" He muttered, craving to hear his mother call him that stupid Sugar Pie nickname, only to hear Gladys calling him something familiar and alien. "He's having another bad memory."

"Another?" Bobby's grabbed Dean's arms, wrapping them around across one another so Sam could control Dean's movements more easily.

"Dean? Easy... easy. I'm here. It's Sam."

"MOM! SAVE MOM!"

"I can't. God, I wish I could...Shh." He sniffled. "Mom's gone."

"No. Got her. They got her." Confessing things he never would have said-torments of hell- his mother- and fears. Broken words that said why too much, speaking of insurmountable pain. Some sounds were mere mumbles, but the message was clear. Mary was in hell with him. Somewhere- Somehow, Mary saved Dean and it was tearing Dean apart.

Sam sucked in a gasp, struggling to hold him tighter."Hold on. You can't leave again. You just can't."

"What the hell happened to you all!?" Wanda's face shocked wide with an uncertain gaze.

"The things that-." Gladys started, equally in a daze as her sister. She bent down and started stroking Dean's hair. "Shh. Push it away. It's not happening. Let it go."

Dean quieted, finally breaking free of the horrors of his mind.

"Dean? Kiddo, you okay?"

The faces distended oddly, shapes hovering over him, but he knew the voices. He tried to speak, but his lips pushed out unformed airless words.

Sam hoisted him up, buoying the of Dean's head to rest on a shoulder. "You're going to be okay. Just need a little help. That's all. It's over."

"Not like this. Not.... in...front of them." Dean whispered, begging Sam. A sharp pain zipped up his thigh. His eyes darted hazily down, gluing to the bloody stain on his pants. "Please." He squinted so hard, trying to find more focus, that his crow's feet became cavernous. "No more." Tears bombarded from his clench lids. "Mom's waiting...waiti..." His eyes opened with a strange glassiness as if scanning the distance, seeing things that could never be seen.

"What!?" Realization gutted Sam. "He thinks we- we're going-"

"Not them...not here."

Mutterings almost too jumbled to understand banged hard in Sam's ear. Sam's breathing heightened. His teeth parted, wanting to chatter with a sudden chill. "I…"

"They're fine. We got them out." Bobby's gruff voice sounded raspier than normal, carefully choosing his words. They needed to get Dean out of here and in his experience the less truth the better. "We're explaining everything to them right now. You taker'..."

"Poppycock! You haven't explained anything." Jiggling her head as if something had loosened a pin in her neck, Wanda settled to get answers.

"I will- just- he needs me and this time I can't…" Sam propped his shoulder higher

"Not them... don't. Not here.

Suddenly, the wind blown trees started to look dark and ominous, and strange sounds bawled in the distance. However, it was just the fire dying out as its fuel source went extinct, reducing to consumed ashes. When lights returned, it popped in colored flashes. The noise pitched higher- closer. Sirens.

Sam swallowed hard thick smoke paste down his throat, trying desperately to find a rational, or at least reasonable sounding excuse for the sisters, but his words gravy thickened with the lump he just swallowed. He didn't care what they thought of him, but the last thing they needed was more complications at the moment and thoughts of protecting Dean crammed any thoughts he had at the moment.

"I say we put them in room with a polecat. What do you say, Dean. Let's see how quick-" Her jib was lost, smothered in Gladys' concern.

A smidge of awareness sparked. After all that had happened, he was back to square one, starting the game over. Only this time he had no tricks or cheats to pull. No more running when all he thought to be worth a damn was right in front of him. The sisters had almost made him believe he was worth it too. Merely, a foolish man's dare that he could find a way to fix everything.

All things had been denied him- simple things- a home, family, children, his father's approval, measuring up, and the list was endless. Death was favored to a life without ties to Sam, a life of solitude without friends like Bobby, a life while his mother suffered, and a life where innocents paid for the dark that plagued them. That's what he had to offer the world.

At the bottom of his life barrel scraped the inevitable demise at the hands of those he trusted most. Perhaps, it was better that way. However, with every fiber in him that pained, he wanted someone to remember him kindly at this end.

At least on the other side, he would have his mother again and he could carry the final act of protecting two elderly sisters who shown him nothing but kindness, albeit strange kindness. No matter what Sam and Bobby did to him, Wanda and Gladys survived the Winchester madness, intact with grit and moxy.

"Trust me. We're here-" She began again.

Dean chuckled. "Do trust." He whispered so sloppily he could have been speaking in tongues, but Sam got the message. "Please. Don't let them see. Can't see. Not…" Dean's head jutted back, falling to the darkness of unconsciousness before he could finish his plea.

"I'm here to save you." Sam's shoulder shook, hunching over in defeat. "I'm here- here to save you. I just want my brother back. Dean? DEAN!"


	15. Trust

**Author's note: Getting close to the end. I'll be posting these as I finish them in small pieces if I have to daily. Enjoy.**

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"Dean Winchester? Can you give me an update?" Bobby barked more than questioned the nightshift nurse, who seemed more content to ignore and yawn than answer his question.

"Are you family?" Pushing idly at his nametag, the nurse buffed the tag until his name almost faded into the background.

"Are you deaf or just plainly stupid? For the millionth time, yes. You brought him in, took him behind the gated doors and haven't told anyone diddly."

"I don't have an update on my screen."

"Why don't you get off your ass and walk on those things you call legs? And you sure as hell had information for the sheriff that went back there."

"I can't stop emergency personnel or authorized visitors."

"Let me tell you something. I didn't march into a fire just to settle for your excuses. Anything that messes with that boy will be a might sorry for it."

"Sir, you have to calm down."

The sisters exchanged gestures in some hidden mean of communication, elbowing each other as Bobby spoke.

"See the thing about being alive this long- I don't have to do jack squat. Get on that phone. Punch me some numbers and you get back to me."

"Sir, the thing about working here this long- I don't have to take orders from you. Sit down and when I have information that I can share-"

"Anyone ever tell you that you have the personality of a scorpion! Arh! You'd think I asked you for the key to the treasury or something." Bobby stalked over to Sam, Wanda, and Gladys as he tried not to fume over the nurse's condescending attitude

"I heard we have no news." Gladys puffed her hair up, trying to resemble something human instead of someone who had just survived a massive fire.

"You just don't know how to ask." Wanda thumped a rolled up magazine in her fist.

"The approach was good, but no follow through." She raised her eyebrows, darting her eyes furtively in a way that presumed Sam or Bobby would have a clue as to what Gladys might be hinting at.

"You aren't about to preach the fly and honey speech are you. Bah, just brick walls. Damn rules and regulations are a mess!" Bobby nudged Sam, who had taken to quietness since they arrived.

"Don't worry. This hospital is the best in the state." Gladys reassured.

"And we have many ways." She raised her brows again, but this time she narrowed her focus squarely on Bobby and Sam. Wanda pulled at a burn hole in her clothes, dismayed at the obvious state of her appearance. "If we have proper motivation, young men."

Taken aback, Bobby hadn't heard the term young man referred to him since at least the 70's and he doubted he looked that young even then. "I take it this is where you name a price for not squealing to high heavens when the police and ambulance showed up."

"Not price, but answers." Wanda's glare might have stopped Medusa herself.

"Just what are you hiding?" The sisters alternated comments like expert interrogators with Gladys taking over. "You skimmed over with the sketchiest of details. We told you what we knew-"

"So crack the can of worms."

"Ain't that much more." Covering the boys was something Bobby did best, but when he attempted a deadpan keening goaded out of Sam.

"I was right there and Dean trusted strangers over me. This is what I've driven him to. What I've done."

"Sam, you need rest too, we got to be strong for-"

"Dean trusts you." Sam's fingers pushed over the burn on his hand, whirling the pattern beneath his thumb. At least the pain confirmed he could find something other than numb inside of him.

"And why wouldn't he?" Gladys pulled at Sam's hand. "Don't pick at it, dear."

The sudden presence of her touch moved some trigger in his voice as if he was a toy's button pressed and forced to speak. "Dean's not big on trust."

"Says you!" The way Wanda crossed her arms and huffed might have won an Oscar.

"He has been absolutely delightful. A bit….hmmmm….cankerous at times.

Scoffing, Sam shook his head. "Guess you really got to know him."

"Now you better give us answers or the pokey is the least of your worries." Wanda yanked her sister's hand from Sam, giving her a displeased look.

"Pokey?" Bobby mouthed. "Damn, we owe Dean big time on this," he whispered.

"I suggest you talk fast or else. Around here, they string you up by your toenails until you talk." Reclosing her arms, Wanda raised her back straight, waiting for a sensible answer.

"We're the pussycats in these parts. And they won't take lightly you destroyed our barn."

"Now, now simmer down." Bobby tried to run defense again.

"Simmer down! Excuse me, simmer down. I have you know the last man who told me that pulled buckshot out of his ass for weeks." She uncrossed her arms, giving him a wagging finger. Wanda pointed at him. "No more crap."

"And that was at the church picnic. Now when 3 hooligans attack a friend of ours and talk of murder and evil things best left to sermons of fire and brimstone!"

"I told you he didn't hurt no one."

"Then why did that crazy woman think that and why did he cover for you." Gladys tilted her head on way, screwing a corner of her mouth in the opposite direction.

"But I did. Not it the way you think." Sam forced his voice to cooperate. "What if I told you he had seen it? Felt the very fires of hell. Been slashed by brimstone and so much worse?"

Her finger pointed directly at Sam now. "I'd say you were a liar. Dean's heart is not-"

As Gladys lugged down her sister's finger, she fasten her eyes on Sam, unearthing the same beating pain in him that she first saw in Dean. "That's why he is so torn up? Why the nightmares haunt him?"

"He didn't earn it- He did it for me."

"For you?" She yanked Sam's hand away from his burn again, forcing him to look at her.

"Cause that's what Dean's moronic ass does." He said harshly. "He just had to play the hero, didn't he?" He started with accusation thick in this stuffed-up voice. He blinked, and his eyes burned. "Why did he do that...STUPID STUPID bastard." The vacuity of his drawn in breath, drew his face downtrodden. "Everyone else gets taken care of." A sense of pride ride spilled over inadvertently.

Wanda shifted the chairs closer as if Sam might escape. "I don't get any of this. What happened to that child?

"Why was he so lost when he came to us?"

"Cause he chose to suffer for me. He- he chose to go through pain and misery just so I could live. There are things you wouldn't believe- dark things. I have a lot to make up for. And if you want to tell the cops, go ahead cause I don't care. Just let me make sure he's going to be okay." He sucked in a breath, which took away the tough guy act he had so carefully constructed. "I-"

"You love him?" Her eyes narrowed to slits, staring out in bitter amazement.

"Course we do. Why'd you think we came after him, knowing that nut job wanted to kill Sam?"

Sam glanced up at his friend. "We go down, we go together."

Gladys turned her head to the side, inspecting Sam for any indication of lie, but all she found was sorrow and pain. "Young man?"

"I'll tell you everything- all of it- the scary ass truth. Just keep him out of this."

"We were trying to protect." Wanda huffed.

"Then we want the same thing." Bobby opened his hand as in a welcoming gesture.

"You don't understand." Sam's pitch changed and he sucked in his lips until they disappeared entirely. When he found the courage to speak again, his voice was music box soft. "He's all the family I have and when it counted most, I failed him. He said to trust you. And I know when he says that, it means something. A hellva lot."

"Then trust us."

Not sure as to why, Sam's autopilot switched on, reading the Winchester history as if it were an entry in an encyclopedia-dry with disbelief. His eyes locked in a trance as if his mind were elsewhere. He kept it simple, as simple as stories of demons, betrayal, family, death, and resurrection could be. Even in the low tone, it sounded fantastical- a yarn a priest would tell to scare his congregation into seeing the light. He didn't know how long he spoke or acknowledge when any of the party gave him a questioning glance.

More often than not, Bobby surveyed the hospital to make sure if they had to pull an escape then he was going to make sure they were ready. He and the sisters eyed each other, judging the responses in stone cold poker faces. Moreover, he found himself surprised that they took in all of Sam's words without a hint of the skepticism he expected. Even in hunting terms, the Winchester legacy was hard to swallow.

On and on, Sam hit the highpoints, avoiding ideas and thoughts that would break him down. Sadly, he found that for every memory there was something that could blast him and make him fall apart again. A multitude of things that he could never craft sufficient amends preoccupied the forever-haunted portion of his soul.

Then all was silent. Only the rolling rosary in Gladys's hands made a minimal amount of clatter as they rubbed in her wrinkled fingers. He hadn't noticed her take those from her sweater pocket, but he transfixed on the sound. "I always carry them. Not much good huh?"

"You'd be surprised." He constructed a forced smile and continued. When he finished, he noticed wetness drop to his hand. The sensation startled him, forcing him to realize he had stared so long and been so deep into his tale, his eyes betrayed him. The salty tear burrowed in the small burn on his cheek, settling in just above a neatly formed bruise.

For the longest time, the tale stole any words as if Sam had destroyed the structure of the English language itself in those moments.

Without warning, Wanda broke the hush with a booming bellow so deafening that the nurses at the station jumped along with Sam. "Hayes Grayson!"

The corpulent sheriff turned, rolling his eyes pretending he didn't hear Wanda's bellow. His hand jerked at a pair of pants obviously too small to contain the man's abundant beer belly. Upon hearing his name, he tugged harder in a nervous tick.

Finding it strange that the local law had found his way back to the waiting room without his notice, Sam envisioned Dean kicking his ass for getting sloppy. He racked his brain for good con answers, but his mind was too tired to form a story that would stand a fair amount of scrutiny.

"Don't you try my patience young man! I'll pull you by the ear to the church altar and have you learn the lesson of respecting the elderly!" Her tone increased sharper than any banshee did. When he failed to answer Wanda swooped up, bones creaking as she went. If there was pain, she gave no indication of it.

"Not now! Good Lord Almighty. I'm in the middle of an investigation. I don't have time for your blathering."

"Blathering!" Gladys stood on tiptoes to glare expectantly, defending her sister without regard to over girthed by the sheriff by exponential means. "Stop fidgeting. And since the investigation was practically on our door step-"

"Now, now. I just need to question all involved. Take 'em down to the station and such."

Sam puzzled, exchanged glances with Bobby, and both of them glared with a signal they may have to bolt. "I won't leave him." Sam whispered.

"We ain't. If we have to, follow my lead. I'll double back and find him. No arguments. My way- remember?"


	16. Fought the Law

Before Sam had time to argue with Bobby, Gladys went about correcting Hayes posture, pushing and shoving him. "Stand up straight. Take off that cap in front of ladies. Where have you been! It was our barn; you should have come right away and talked to us."

"Now, now." Hayes yanked his falling drawers up, succeeding in hitching the waistband to mid chest level until his stomach looked like a squeezed watermelon. "I done tried to question one of the hooligans."

"You overstuffed Nincompoop" She gave him another shove, pushing him forward to bare inches of her sister's face.

Not to out jibbed, Wanda slapped a new insult on the dumfounded Hayes. "Seen more sense in the ass of a Christmas turkey!"

"Swear he couldn't find his ass in the dark with both hands, a map, and a flashlight." Gladys offered.

"Course he could. It's the part he thinks with." Wanda gave Gladys a wink.

"What in the blazes is wrong with you cankerous two now." With a might jerk, a small inseam in Hayes' pants ripped with a sudden yelp of the unforgiving fabric.

"How dare you even question our nephew without talking to us first." The sheer closeness of Wanda pushed him back, only to find Gladys waiting.

"Nephew." Flabbergasted, the sheriff sputtered."

"You have no right to-" Beaming, she backed him the other direction until he was pinned between she and Wanda.

"I have the authority!"

"And I have a willow tree to get a switch from! Course you remember that tree? Right Hayes?" Wanda smacked her lips, raising a cruel eyebrow.

"We could have told you what happened!"

"Since when do you have a mysterious nephew? My finely tuned instinct-"

"Nephews you tard muffin!" The same accusatory finger wagged that Wanda had given to Bobby and Sam earlier. "Land sakes, they sure grow up dumb. And we use to think he was the smart one in his family."

"All I said was that it didn't add up. I need to get answers. There is a dead body at the funeral home!"

"UH! Are you implying what I think?" Wanda's eyes narrowed, daring the sheriff to speak further.

"Come on old girl, you know." Waving a hand to lead her to his obvious forehand drawn conclusion, Hayes shifted uncomfortably, searching for some relief from his interrogators.

"OLD GIRL!" Gladys mocked.

"AUDACITY!" Tapping her finger in the middle of the perfectly oval belly, Wanda moved the mass like jello. "You smart mouthed hooligan."

"If you must know, their grandma and I served together as nurse in the war."

"You aren't making light of her service are you?" Wanda's nose scrunched and a single eyebrow rose."

"I... no. Uh, NO!" He yanked his pants even higher and began glancing for the same exits Bobby cased earlier.

"What do you figure those two are up to?" Bobby murmured.

"I think- huhf... I think they believe me. They're helping-"

"They're nuts! I was there for most of that crap and I didn't even believe ya."

"You got to admit, they're good. I can see why Dean took to them." Sam pushed on his burn again, noticing the stinging had worsened. "Do you think we should help?"

"I think we should stay the hell out of their way. Stay on the good side of their meds."

At least Hayes didn't think they should stay out of the conversation, but it wasn't evident if he was looking for an ally to help him escape or still trying to find a way to do his job. Bobby and Sam both thought it was more the former idea.

"Aww... their grannies and I have been corresponding for years. These boys are like family to us. I mean I saw this one..." She waved a hand at Sam as if at any moment she might just pinch his cheeks. "...when he had no front teeth."

"Oh my. And of course that was the same year he decided he should cut his own hair. You remember that school picture when it looked like his head was trimmed with a weedwacker and both teeth gone!" Wanda laughed.

"Wonder if we still have those? Might be good blackmail to get them to fix the porch."

"Are you kidding? I have the rubber ducky photo! I'd say porch and cleaning out the attic!" Laughing again, Wanda bellowed so hard it seemed like the wall shook with her.

"Rubber ducky?" Hayes took a step back, smacking hard against the wall.

"Why yes! Oh, for crap sake! DO I NEED TO SHOW YOU NAKED BABY PICTURES FOR YOU TO PAY ATTENTION?" This time it was not the walls that shook, but the sheriff.

"Now simmer down."

"Hell, now he's done it!" Bobby groused.

"Now girls this is awful fishy. I need to-"

"ARE YOU CALLING US A LIAR?" Both sisters screamed.

"I NEVER!" Feigning a few tears, Gladys leaned on her sister's shoulder.

"If you don't get out of the way and close that mud scraping slack jaw and let that boy see his family, I'll make sure that Eunice knows all about the time you tied her brother to a pole and fed him Ex-lax. And I'll get our lawyer over here in a heartbeat if you do anything to jeopardize Dean-"

"Whoa, whoa."

"Don't you whoa me. Do I look like I am about to pull a horse and buggy. I want to know Dean's condition and know immediately. And now you made poor Gladys cry." She patted her sister's head. "There, there, dear. We'll get it all settled."

"Do I have to call the magistrate?" Hayes fluffed out his chest and jutted out a lip

"Yeah, call Herman. He still owes me for the poker game last month. Should be interesting. Call and wake him up when we told you everything that happened." Gladys cornered a nurse, talking twice as sweet as the angry shout she just gave the sheriff. "Do you have a phone dear?" The poor nurse could only sputter back. "Poor homeless girl looking for a place to stay and when the barn caught on fire. Must have set the place ablaze trying to keep warm. Then the whole thing came down when Dean tried to get to her. It was so sad… so sad."

"Now, see what you've done. You've upset her more and you continue to upset us with this delay when love ones are needing our support."

"OH YEAH! And what does nephew two have to say about all this?"

"I just want to see Dean. You can ask me anything you want after that." Sam shrugged saying as little as possible, but making sure it was the pure truth.

"How can you be so cruel? Look at those puppy sad eyes. The sheer audacity!" Wanda threw up her hands, huffing and rolling up her sleeves, looking for a place to throw a punch. The stark clean white of her arms made the black soot covered fist more menacing.

"ARRGGGH" Hayes bellowed. "You two are like talking to a fence post."

"Good thing. Cause you have a sense of a fence post."

"Miss Wanda, don't… Now I I'm afraid I have a few more questions."

"Good. Then you talk to us and leave the injured alone."

"Like a vulture ready to pick the bones." She bawled a loud, attention-getting sob. Gladys drew close to Sam, falling on his shoulder, pretending to let loose a deluge. Hayes saw his opportunity to flee the scene. She leaned up, giving Sam a wink. "If they come out to talk about Dean, you go ahead. We'll be along shortly. HERE! You take over now." After digging in her sweater pocket, she clapped the thin row of beads in his hand and strutted off joyously after Wanda, who was hot on Hayes' departure.

"You are full of hogwash!" Wanda stamped behind Sherriff Grayson's, taking every opportunity to find new creative names to suggest he was a buffoon. As soon as Gladys caught up, she piped right in the competition to find the best insult. They even followed him out the exit, and it was only then the Richter of the sister's voices muffled, losing timbre to the outside. Suddenly, the sheer quiet was odd and disarming. Several collective sighs offered prayer for the silence and absence of the sister. The nurse behind the station snapped a pencil pointed in heightened frustration.

"Give 'me one thing. The can sure make a grown man quake with fear. Poor Cop!" Eventually, Bobby spoke, wondering many of the same things Sam was, but trying to find a way to fuse and repair the damage.

"Yeah."

"When he wakes up, those two should be quite a story."

"I guess." The rosary clattered in Sam's hands as if the bead string had broken, yet they were whole and intact. Slowly, he stared down at the tangled mess and separated the strand, rolling each smooth blood stone beads in between his fingers.

"He'll be okay."

"Will he?" He offered a short glance up and then returned to his focus and fingers to the rosary.

"Don't know." Bobby tilted his head to the side and shook it lightly. "He's alive. That's more than I ever thought."

"You know it's crazy. Back in the barn, I kept thinking of when we were kids. And the first time I ever saw Dean afraid."

"We all have fear, Sam."

"Not like this. It was-" He sputtered. His vacant stare directed at his reflection in the highly polished glass beads. "I got in this huge fight with Dad. God, I had to have been freaking nine at the time. Dad found out I knew everything about the business. That I had peeked in his damned journal. Thought he was going to skin me."

"I think John and Dean wanted you to be the part of them that died with Mary. Dean wanted you to have what he didn't. It brought him happiness to make life normal for you. You just didn't understand."

"What was there to understand? All of it was so messed up. And I hated Dad for it. Dean just stood there between us, holding back two bulls clashing horns. When he fight was over with, we both turned away from him. Dad going his way, me going mine. Then I took off. Ran- no idea where or why. I just ran away. It was the first time I took off."

"Bet John was fuming."

"He never knew."

"Probably would have chained you up if he did."

"Yeah- might have deserved it too."

"Dean taught you too well."

"He made normal seem so great and Dad made hunting hurt so much. But, it's not their faults. I just- Just wanted so much more. I was determined to make life better. Thought I could do that if I just got out. Stopped the madness. "

"Course a nine-year-old sucks at plans."

"Tell me about it. I got completely lost, and Dean- I don't know how he found me. I was cold, scared, and pissed off and he was just there."

"Bet he kicked your ass good for ya."

"Not even close. He just told me to look at him- made sure I was okay. Didn't scream. Just told me he understood. Gave me the stupidest smile and wrapped me in his jacket- walking me back."

"He was a good kid."

"He was never a kid. I can't think of a time, I looked at him and thought of him as a child. He was Dean. Not like anyone else I met or made friends at school. I didn't understand that. We got caught in this ice storm. Soaked like drowning rats before we got back to the house we were squatting in at the time. I remember he built this fire and he looked so torn up. He looked right at me and he was so afraid. And I knew he wanted to cry- to scream, but he didn't. He just asked me not to leave him. And look what I've done to him now."

"Stop it! He was just worried about you."

"It was more than that. He made me promise not to tell Dad about any of it- the running away but mainly about him. Then he told me he that he still thought about Mom and the fire night and no matter how long he lived, he won't forget what he saw. When I asked what he meant, he clamed up. I got lucky. I was too young to remember any of it. When he looked at me in that barn, I saw that fear again. And I realized it was because of me."

"Sam!"

"Don't." He clicked the holy string down with a clatter on a side table. "If I had-"

"We-" Bobby corrected.

"Stop saying that."

"Why? We both screwed the pooch on this. Made huge ass mistakes."

"He died for me. Went through all of it so I could live, but losing him killed me. What was the point of all of it? He sold himself out with no regard for what would happen to him. . You heard him back there."

"He was delusional- hurt. He was in his own head and fears more than with us."

"He would make up something like that. No matter how afraid, he would never put Mom in hell. You heard him. He idolized her. He would never-"

"He wasn't to himself. He was in and out."

"Doesn't mean it's not true. Mom- that she saved him. If she knew the way, why did she let him suffer? Why isn't she here now? Why couldn't she smack me in the head before I turned him away?"

"I think we have some pieces of the puzzle missing and maybe even Dean doesn't have the answers. If Mary did save him, she may have only had enough to offer to free him and no more. Can't imagine what it was or exactly what yanked him."

"Just to let me destroy him and that's the last thing I wanted. That I broken him down beyond belief. Still he reached out to me. You have to understand- that message- when I got that first message. I can't explain it."

"I know it killed ya. Had me worried about you going deeper and further-"

"I figured that." Sam huffed a hot breath then licked his lips.

"You know you can just say it. Not like I don't think the same thing."

"Thanks, I guess. It's important to have you on my side- to know you wanted to save any part of Dean there was. I didn't think you were going to believe me."

"We'll I wasn't going to. Wasn't going to let anything walk around in his skin either, but when those idiots in central jail told me about what he did- I knew something was still Dean. Didn't know how much. Seeing him back there- the way he fought- the way he tried to save us- Holley- the wacked out sisters. I knew there was nothing but Dean there. Nothing evil could have faked the way he reacted. I can't explain it."

"And all he asked for was for us to spare the grannies from watching him die. Was he out of his head them! Tell me that wasn't the truth. That he anticipated death by my hands. He was ready for us to finish him off. The scariest part, we were headed down that path. If Holley hadn't-"

"Doesn't matter. One thing about Dean- he always finds a way. Who knows a bit longer and he would have made us see. Can't say. Can't go back, neither."

"But what does that do for him? Does it take away the pain he felt when I turned him away? I don't know if I can deal with him hating me."

"He won't hate you, Sam."

"But it's worse if he wakes up and just makes it better- like he always does. How the hell can I be afraid of him forgiving and hating me at the same time?"

"Hell if I know. I caught the same thing. Always heard stupidity was contagious."

"The day he found us and we..." Sam's tongue grew thick and dry as he thought of how to make amends for the personal demons in his mind. Nothing seemed to be good enough to explain how he had treated Dean.

"We had to. We're hunters…"

"We're family first!" A sniffle stole part of what Sam was going to say. "It's just when he-"

"When he died." Bobby completed. "Don't you think I know that?"

"Seeing him- knowing it couldn't be him and still I wanted it to be! That I wanted it so bad. Wanted to believe he fought his way out. Every time he claimed to be Dean, it was like yellow eyes finally won. Damn thing's dead and he still beat us- stabbing at me. All we went through to kill him was so damn pointless. Only to find a demonic hydra with Lilith popping her ugly head in his place. Knowing she was out there- gloating. That she won and I shut it all off..."

"That was all we had. He...uh...he. Seemed like as long as we had Dean around, we could beat 'em. He just always seemed so damn sure we could." Bobby chuckled. "Never knew how much you could count on that until-."

"Until he was gone. All I saw the night he came back was a taunt. I couldn't listen. When he called- He was just Dean- his voice. The right words. I couldn't make that voice stop. I couldn't scream against it. Couldn't tell him to shut up. It just played on and on. Even after what we did- even if we pulled punches and didn't go hardcore- he was still there for me. He could have claimed a million things in that devil's trap, but nothing could reach me."

"I couldn't find my way to him either. I thought I knew you both so well, but there's more pain inside you two than half the world combined. Every time you scratch the surface, you find a flood of hurt. He didn't fight that night, but somehow- somewhere along the way- he found his way back to that. Something sparked him back to hold on."

"So you're saying its good we were inconsiderate assholes!"

"No. The Dean we knew was asleep and all we saw was the shell. It's not right or wrong. Just is. Doesn't excuse us, but I saw the fight in him in that barn. The kindness and compassion I haven't seen in ages. His integrity and selflessness for others. The things that make him who he is. And- and- the thought of going through losing him again. And all this brought you and me back too."

Sam stared off, trying to hold back tears that fell despite his efforts. "I stopped being human the day he died. Just blocked it all and when he needed me, I just… I punched his face- Let rage drive any chance to reach any part of him in that shell. No matter how small it might have been- I should have seen. My brother was all that kept me sane for so long. He always got after me about praying, but he gave me faith. He's the one that taught me to believe that things would be better. But it never got better! The damn demons just took and took and took. And all I wanted was to be a rock to stop from feeling anything!"

"So did I. Easier than feeling that damn empty pit inside. Knowing it was cause he---"

"Your own dark consuming your soul." Sam's heart wrestled, stabbed by them as a million different emotions Tears streamed wetness down his cheek and neck as he finally gave into the turmoil inside of him, not caring about pretense anymore. "How could I be so cruel and now expect him to be…." Knowing his brother's pain was so acute was more than enough reason to crawl in a bottle or under a rock in penitence. As much as he hated what happened, he couldn't help but feel blessed to have his brother. Any words or punishment would not keep him away. "How could we- How could we not see!"

"Cause we were so damn angry! " Bobby's voice trembled. "He made that dumbass deal. He was selfish- made us watch him die every day for a year. Damn we tried to be strong for him, but it killed us a bit each day too. The idea of him on popping back up on my doorstep--"

"Why does it still hurt so much?"

"We didn't want to be wrong. If something dark brought him back, then it would take him away again. It was easier than thinking he could- did come back. We have him. Free- Clear. If your Mom gave him a second chance, we have to make sure it was worth the sacrifice."

"If it's true, no wonder he- no wonder he needed me. It'll be right this time. Please, tell me it will be right."

"Can't."

"I never been so all over the place in my life."

"That's what family does to you. Love is war. Family World War III."

"I want to hate Holley for her part in this mess right now, for what she did, but I can't. I want to hate Dean for dying on me, hate him for not being able to make me see, hate myself for being so blind. Hate myself for-"

"It's not the time for this. Dean's shell-shocked. We're going to have to fight for him. If he wants to throw a million punches to get even, so be it. We don't get to wallow in this. His pain will be far worse. We fight beside him without question."

"If he even lets us."

"He will. That's Dean. We say our peace and move forward. He wants to step back, he's earned the right. But he don't need a reminder in his face every day of our guilt. We do our best to tell him we proved he's 100% him. Tell him we put him through some obscure exorcisms if that makes him think we're on his side, but we can't let any of our doubt hang over him. He'll wonder and we'll give him no more cause for it. He can accept our caution at the start, but he needs-"

"So we lie. Tell him we wanted-"

"We did want it. Just did it all assbackwards. You tell me that if he thinks we have any worries about his resurrection that it won't eat at him?"

"Oh, God. Every day. It'll kill him."

"Then we have no doubt. No guilt.

"I don't doubt him."

"The more we explain and twist in our actions, the more he will doubt himself. Can you bear your pain in silence without loading the burden down upon him? Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"We'll have to find a way to never make him doubt himself. In this business."

"It could get him killed."


	17. Already Gone

"HOW ARE WE DOING IN HERE?" Wanda beamed before she crossed the threshold of the automatic doors, obviously flushed from the winter air.

"They are moving him to a private wing when they change his dressing. We are assured that he will get the best rest." Gladys rubbed her hands together for warmth.

"What did you two do?" Bobby cocked his head, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Simply remind the hospital administrator of a few choice things. And don't you worry none about Hayes." A devilish glee sparked at the end of Gladys' smile.

Wanda titled her head, pulling her own sly smile to the side of the tilt. "Being old makes you privy to loads of scandals to use in many varying occasion."

"And that means you can stay with him, until he is released." She grabbed her rosary from the table, smiling as she did so. "I mean heroes deserve that."

"I'm not hero."

Gladys noticed Sam turning away. Her hand snaked to his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. Tears still spilled from him. "He'll understand. It's okay. I know." For the life of him, Sam would have sworn he didn't need her words or compassion, but he did.

When he pulled away, he swiped his obviously reddened, puff eyes. "I'm fine."

"Poppycock. These boys are dunderheads!" Wanda shook her head, rolled her eyes, and gave Bobby a good poke in the side.

Bobby gwaffed, finding it hard to do anything but laugh. "Don't look at me. With you boys, it's obvious."

Try as hard as he might, Sam laughed too, and it felt good to feel something other than guilt. An awkward smile flashed as a plainly attractive doctor marched towards them.

"Grace Marie!" Wanda exclaimed louder than an auctioneer meeting an old friend.

"Wanda. Gladys." Her slow tone positively tainted by a long shift.

"Young lady, how could you help Hayes with such a distasteful investigation?" She dangled the rosary, swinging it back and forth in ritual.

"Letting that shit weasel in before family."

"I didn't. We were trying to get him settled. The young man was bordering on delirium when we got him. Plus, he's resting anyway. Most of what he is saying makes little sense."

"And you let Hayes in when the poor boy can't give a straight answer for love or money!" Her words were shrewd but her tone much more pleasant than before.

"Shame on you! If your sainted mother…"

"Let's keep mothers out of this."

"Why? Don't think she would…" The beads tangled, rolling and fusing together in knots.

"And no report on his condition at all! Is this a hospital or morgue?"

"You know better than that. I may not put the fear of God into Hayes, but I put the fear of needle pokes. Told him if he didn't get out of my ER, I was going to inject him with enough estrogen to make his man boobs grow a few more cups."

"I do hope you don't get into any trouble on our behalf, dear." Her lips puckered in an apologetic grimace and she slammed her hand and rosary back into her sweater pocket.

"Nah. Most of us know Hayes can barely handle a crossword puzzle much less a serious investigation. He's still struggling with ABC's much less understanding DNA."

"Don't you worry, we took care of him. If you please a report of Dean's condition." Wanda guided her into the closer-knit circle of the group.

"He's stable. A bit out of it from a slight fever. I suspect a small infection has set up and a course of IV antibiotics should do the trick. A sundry of cut, scrape, and bruises. We have him on an O2, but any more time in that fire and we would have had to intubate him. Got him out just in the nick."

"And you don't think that is serious!" Sam fussed.

"I didn't say it wasn't serious. He has a significant laceration, which had profuse bleeding with an ecchymosis area to his left leg. A bunch of cuts, scrapes, bruises, bruised ribs, and a broken bone. What I just said was that he's stable and in better shape than we could have expected given the circumstances. Some first degree burns- none too large, but you might know something about that yourself." Gracie touched his cheek first, finding it to be superficial. "Come to think of it, has anyone looked at your burns?" Gracie jerked the appendage into her hand, giving it a once over. "Get me some gauze and oint-," she barked to a nurse peering round the corner, who apparently had no issues with rushing off before the doctor gave a complete order. "I'll just wrap it up."

"It's fine really." Sam flushed at the gentle stroke on his burn, embarrassed. "Can I see my brother?"

"In a bit. We are keeping him for observation for a coupla days- maybe more if needed. We want to monitor his breathing, f and the upper thigh. Took a few skilled sutures, thank you very much. " Gracie turned his hand every way imaginable.

"And his leg? What about… Will he be able to use it?"

"Missed the major veins. It will take some time to heal, but luckily no broken bones there, so we avoided surgery. Does it hurt when I press here?"

"Huh?"

"Your hand?"

Sam half-expected Gracie to say duh, but she only smiled as she pressed the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

"It's fine. Sure it looks worse than it is."

"Don't pay any attention to him. We want both our boys healthy. You should use sugar cane, takes the heat out of fire."

"Still practicing that voodoo wisdom of yours I see." She gave Gladys an amused chuckle.

"You better not argue with aunt Gladys and Wanda. You already seen the sheriff get his ass handed to him and he got off easy." Bobby smiled with a wink, praying the sisters took the joke lightly. If anyone could whittle him down, he was sure these two had much more in their arsenal and were well equipped to do it. He doubted if even John Winchester could win against the, but John would have taken a shine to them too. Dean sure could pick up strange and true friends just as easily as his Pop.

"I see you know them extremely well. But, you won't find bigger hearts to go with the large mouths." Gracie cocked her head knowingly and whispered to Sam. "Barks way worse than the bite. Course they bite pretty hard too."

"Excuse me, God gives everything in balance." Wanda stamped her foot with jiggish pride.

"In over abundance." Gracie gave two quick eyebrow jiggles to Sam as the nurse brought some gauze and ointment to her. Just as quick as the nurse dropped the items into Gracie's hand, he gave the sisters a horrified expression and skittered off. Gracie didn't acknowledge the hasty exit, but continued fussing with Sam's hand. "This will be fine. Just superficial burns. If you notice any change, you can come see-"

"I appreciate the thought, but I just really want to see Dean."

"By the time I finish your hand, you can visit him all you want. The nurses- that haven't been scared off- are doing a wound change to his leg at the moment. He'll be able to use it- may hurt like a mother when he does. I suspect he'll get more aches from the non-displaced fracture of the left clavicle. Not much we can do about that. It will take at least 12 weeks to heal, but since a beam fell on him, I imagined him having more broken bones than that. We gave him an 8 splint to keep him…"

"8 splint?" Sam thought he heard of everything medical since they had clocked more than a few trips to hospitals, but this is a new one on even him.

"Yes, it keeps his posture aligned. It lines up the bones so they heal properly. He won't have full range of motion with the arm for a bit. He can still use both arms, but he'll find at least some limitations with his leftie. Just a splint really. Doesn't work any better than a sling, if you believe the most recent mode of thinking, but it appears your brother has a firsthand relationship with trouble and I wanted to keep at least part of him immobile and protected. Several injuries were older than others, so you have to wonder if he's not the unluckiest sucker ever. That splint should keep him from doing more damage to himself. He'll have pain, so he will need some help. That should go away after a few--."

"Then why don't you give him something?"

"Miss Gladys, you know we are. Please stop causing such a commotion. Two nurses are already hiding from the scene you had with Hayes. Then the hospital administrator called in a frenzy after you phoned and woke him up in the middle of the night. I'd like some order in this chaos if you please."

"Tell us where we can find-." Gladys responded

"253. And as soon as I finish with his hand, you can ALL go see him. Or don't you listen? Just be sure not to over tax him. And he may fade in and out on you until that fever breaks. And he'll need plenty of rest, so let him sleep as much as he can. And I know you are anxious, but those are my orders. And don't start with the home remedies."

"Sure are a lot of ANDS to remember. I seem to recall the mustard seed poultice clearing up that horrible cause of hemorrhoids for your first patient."

"Heaven help you," She tapped the fully bandage hand, gave Sam a once over to make sure she didn't miss any other injuries, and then wagged at finger at each member of the quartet. "I suspect it might do him good to see you, even if he is a bit worn thin. I'll be around if you have any problems. And for the love of Saint Peter, can you keep the drama to a minimum?"

"Drama? Wanda titled her head.

"Us?" Repeating the same gesture as her sister, Gladys smiled.

Gracie nodded. "The Titanic was less drama than you two. The Hindenburg disaster pales in comparison. I do have other patients, but I'll be keeping tabs just to make sure." She clasped her hands together, rubbing them completely at ease. "And if it's not too much trouble, you could hit up the high and mighty for donations to the unfinished cancer wing the next time you are out and about. I think that will be penance enough for tonight's outburst."

"Why, we would be honored." Wanda tilted her head like a bobble in a car window. "Always like put the squeeze on those scrooges." Her well-formed fist slapped down into her open palm, a sound that pleased her to no end.

"Call me if you need me." Her smile was less condescending and scolding, but genuine affection for the sisters. Before she returned to her post, she mouthed a knowing thanks.

"Somethin' tells me she's had experience with ya before." Bobby dared another passing comment.

"We've handled every fundraiser she's ever needed. Sold my famous home cures. Works wonders!"

"We have ways to get thing done."

"Don't know why. Doesn't take that much. Ohhh! I know. We should bring some sage in. That will perk Dean right up."

"Right as rain! Except… uh… now the last time you went for sage, you got the bitter skunkweed. Christ, the house reeked like burnt cow manure for a week."

"You make one little mistake and you get branded forever."

"A little mistake is adding salt to a pie. Skunkweed is a huge error."

Gladys flipped Wanda the bird with the sweetest smile on her face.

"You did not just give me the finger!"

"I did, but it was a happy bird."

"I stand corrected. That makes all the difference."

Sam coughed before they led them down another crazy train conversation. "How long did he-"

"Did he find us?"

He scrubbed the back of his neck, really wondering how long Holley had his brother trapped, hoping Dean didn't have to suffer for sins, which were not of his doing. Sam began to wonder if Dean would be better off with him. "Yeah, been with you?"

"Hmmm. Let's see. That was the night when we saw the gospel trio in Lawrence. Land sake, what day was that. Hmmm...Damn my memory." Pumping her fist again in her open hand, Wanda seemed less satisfied than before.

"Might as well. He already damned your thighs."

"Right with your boobs."

"Man, I am going to have to really pay when Dean wakes up. The girls must have drove him crazy." Sam smiled warmly as he whispered to Bobby.

"Ain't enough jello mud wrestling women in the universe for that. Might have to throw in a trip to Chucky Cheese. It's your turn to get him out the slide tubes."

Sam beamed, thinking if it would only be so easy.

"Well, there we go. He has a nice smile too!" Gladys pawed a bang out of Sam's face, getting a good look.

"Easier to crack than Dean's was!"

Struck by any idea that Dean might have been happy at all during all this, Sam clamped his mouth shut and wrinkled his nose. "I- I never said thank you for coming back. You didn't have to help us get him out." He rubbed a sore knot on the back of his head- a souvenir from one of the belts to his head the sister had been happy to provide.

"Sorry about that. We were-"

"Trying to save him." Wanda completed.

"I know." Sam nodded his head. "And you didn't have to believe me or help us back there, so I think I can look past a bump."

"I'm just glad they didn't have a gun or an iron skillet. We would have been goners before we sorted this out. Not that it makes much sense when sorted!"

"Amen to that. Hush now. All this fuss over something we wanted to do." She swiped the hair back in place. "He needs a haircut worse than Dean."

"Still, you saved him."

"He saved our lives first. Kept that crazy woman busy and focused on him. Even we wondered if he was going to forget us for a while. He never gave up on us. Found subtle ways to let us know that."

"I don't know if I can repay..."

"Balderdash. We don't want payment. Dean has been good to us. He just needed a home for a bit." Shushing him with a finger on her lips, Wanda would not hear anymore of needless thank yous.

"We never had a home."

"You do now." Gladys gave him a hopeful shrug.

"We have to move on." Sam sighed with apprehension pushing at his tired face. He hated bursting the sister's idea, but it was better to tell the truth. He couldn't lay down roots when they had so much to do- so many people to save. "Nature of the job. We have to go on- or maybe not. Dean may not want to keep-"

"Course he will. What do you say we go see him and he can tell you?" She clicked the rosary in her pocket, praying silently in her head.

"You're so sure."

"In all the things to haunt him- awake or in dreams- he called out for you both to save him."

"He wanted me to come back?"

Gladys nodded as he eyes turned down. "I don't know. I don't think he expected it, but there was never anger in his words when it came to protecting either of you."

"How could he-" Bobby started.

"I suspect you have to ask him that yourself. It was more heartbroken, but let's see what we can do about that."

Wanda gruffed, coughing loudly. "Are you going to dawdle all day or come along?" Taking point, she led them down a hall, into an elevator, down another hall and stopped long enough for all of them to catch up.

Standing outside of Dean's room, Sam raised his shoulders back proudly, readying himself. As he opened the door, the group stood in stifled shocked. The bed was completely empty, lines of IVs were unhooked and spilling on the floor, and Dean was nowhere in sight.

"Bobby!"

"He can't have gone too far. We'll find him."


	18. Choices

**Author's Note: Only 2 chapters left after this!!!!**

* * *

"Argugghhhhh, you have no idea how much I want to kill you right now!" Dean curled a fist, wishing desperately to knock his visitor off the proverbial high horse.

"You will not succeed in that endeavor. Your delusions for taking on insurmountable tasks are beyond even the instructions I was given, which is why I have a message for you." Castiel bluntly commanded.

"What? How dare you show your face here. Not after what you did to my mother!" Dean screamed lunging for him, startling when the injured leg obeyed him.

"You are but a walking dream. I needed to speak with you. I find it curious that you thought you were awake after all this, but humans are the most complex of God's creations- above all others."

"Now you have reverence for us. Anything that respected humans would not watch like-"

"I do not have your will or choice. My faith is unwavering. Your understanding of workings of heaven is sorely lacking, but you will not find pain here in this moment. Of course, the pain you have when you wake will be just as real-"

"As the pain in Hell. Where you left-"

"I did not judge her sins. They are her own. One day I will show you things as they are, but for now, you need to reclaim yourself. Sam does not need you to return as a solider to him. Things will become harder."

"Great! Cause they have been such a peach now."

"You have your drive back do you not. It was you who broke down in Hell!"

"How! How could you not! All that... everything...goes on forever until-"

"You need not explain. Your resolve in that place is not in question."

"So it's in question now! Who are you to play-"

"Servant, Warrior, Angel to our Lord."

"Then your God sucks!"

"The strength had to be tested, weighed in order to prepare you for-"

"You tell me this was a test. That if you make Dean Winchester crack- drive him down until there is nothing left that an angel gets its wings or something. Thanks- I'll pass."

"This was not solely on you. Something had to be done about Sam. The creeping darkness inside of him seeping to a point of no return. We had to be sure Sam would follow where-"

"You leave him alone. You come within an inch of him, I'll FIND a way to kill you."

"That would not be so easy. You must know this: You're death by Sam's hands has been the design of many demons."

"I'm expected to believe Sam would hurt me!"

"Curious. You asked him only hours ago to spare the sight of your death from two very..."

"You leave them alone too! Those old broads haven't hurt anyone... Don't you dare."

"They were a gift Dean, when you needed human kindness. For no other purpose than the gratification of knowing you helped your fellow man. They were a mirror for you to see that part of yourself. Why do you refuse to see. It is that which holds you back. The path you walk of destruction must stop. You cannot live as warrior alone anymore."

"Seems I did a pretty good job of it. It's what Dad wants of me. Bobby. Sam."

"Why do you not see?"

"Just leave me alone!"

What would you ask of me, Dean? What would you ask of him?

"Him?"

"God."

"I don't know- uh- let's see- My mom. My family-"

"Your family is waiting for you right now. Your anguish will tell you to fight- to drive the wedge that divides you even further. To mistrust from the bitterness in your soul. To lock it all behind a wall. Can't you just be?"

"Damn you. This is not my doing! You threw me out of that pit- ALONE!"

"We are never alone Dean."

"Tell that to Sam. Can you do that? Make him see- Make Bobby see! Give me my life back that demon's stole over 20 some years ago. Wait- I know. WORLD PEACE! Think you can handle that. He is the GOD- think he can handle something like that! Cause all this time I must have been wrong. There's all this bring shiny light out there for me and I was just waiting for you to come off your prissy perch and set me straight. "

"A tongue that wags as sharp as your skills in ending demons. At least you make the demon's battle and my job interesting."

"So you just going to follow me and boss me around." His teeth bore, keeping the snare on his lips fully gleaming.

"Not exactly, but when I come it will mean the difference between saving humanity and letting it fall."

"You got all that power. Why don't you lift a finger now?"

"I fight in ways that you cannot. We are not the same. Not made of the same cloth. Not even the same bits of clay. Don't let my appearance fool you. I am not human- not born of the same heart."

"What about that girl! About Holley Wandell. She was in pain where was your God then!?"

"She is what you could become if you hold onto this mantle of duty and guilt. The matter at hand is that you must surrender the pain of who you think you are. This fight is over. Lay down the guilt and help Sam lay down his."

"I'm pretty sure Sam's not wallowing in any emotion. He's too sharp. Too keen."

"He is human, isn't he?"

"Stop it. I don't know if you are what you say you are, but you aren't going to turn me against him. There's nothing to forgive! He did what I expected. What I taught him. Kept safe!" His teeth chattered, seething to keep everything in proper place, lying to himself.

"Even when it breaks the depths of you? Deep inside you feel the betrayal. If you let it eat at you, then all hope is lost already. You will never be ready to accept the ways things have changed or what you must do. Doesn't it kill you to know that he survived the hunter's life without you?"

"Doesn't matter now, does it? Sam and Bobby don't think it's me. One thing for sure, they aren't going to slip up again and let me break loose. So, I'd say Game over- You aren't saving the kingdom there, Mario! Well, you might be Luigi- He was the tall one right?"

"You will not need any intervention, heavenly or otherwise, to mend the riff you feel- the disconnectedness you feel. All you have to do is stop running and stand still. The evidence of your truth has already seeped in the souls you most seek to please. I must confess, I have never witness a human with more bitterness in my eons or at least not openly so."

"You're keeping me from my Mom, so don't expect me to toast at your wedding or anything."

"Good. You'll need that strength for things to come. As much as it pains you, you cannot save her. If you shredded the very core of hell and even found a way out, there would still be nothing left of her for you. You would curse her in ways you do not understand."

"Then we have nothing to discuss." Dean's eyes grew large, daring.

"I see why you were chosen. Such an innate sense of right and wrong beats within you. As soon as Sam repents his errors, you would lay aside all thoughts of yourself and act as if none of it happened. You must hold, let the riff repair. Take the time to hear what is needed of you. Let go of the past and move forward. There was no malice in his actions- none for you in any regards. He was just as lost as you, waiting for you to lead him to the path God wants for you. Lead him."

"What God wants! What the demon's want! Did any of you ever think about what we want?"

"I do not know what the demons wanted for Sam's master plans, but we know you stopped the leader- the one with all the knowledge. Do you think demon's share all they know with each other?"

"So you're clueless and no one can find a reason for Old Yeller's plans."

"Not exactly. Lilith knows and saw how deadly it was to have you as an unknown variable. Several of Azazel's children know part of the grand plan. One in particular you know abundantly well. You call her Meg."

"I'll kill that bitch. Don't you worry. See I don't need you or anyone's master plan. Anyone touches Sam…"

"The danger in him lies in what you cannot see. Lay down the sword. Accept him when the olive branch is offered."

"He doesn't have to ask. Damn it, he knows that. Knows I would....Shove your puzzles. All these riddles and double meanings. Lay down my sword- don't fight. Accept the olive branch when I did this all to save him. Nice. How about a straight answer? Why did you bring me back!? What does your boss want?"

"I don't know all of the trials that await you. Only when your time of need comes, the answer will be there for you."

"I don't want assurances. I want you to get my mother out of that damned pit!"

"That is not within my means!"

"BULLSHIT!"

"Have you no fear of me?"

"Guess what! I've seen the great big bad part of the beyond- I mean hell is the top- or at least the bottom or so I hear. I know what waits for me down there. When Sam takes me out, am I going back? Can I get her?"

"No. I am not the judge of your fate should you pass again. Yet I know you cannot be the answer for Mary Winchester. That choice belongs in the hands of another if you make the right choice."

"Great more riddles. You're a hypocrite! What choice did I have? Had I known-"

"The choice must have been made out of innocence. Right or wrong. How many choices will you have to make in days to come without knowing the consequences. If you had all the answers, how could you weigh them? If you save a child today, and tomorrow he kills his parents?"

"Then I wouldn't save him."

"But, then he kills them because they were planning to harm thousands of others?"

"I-"

"We are not God. But in all of his creations, he gave man freewill. This is a part of God no other thing under heaven has. It makes you closer to God than I will ever be. If you see how wondrous that is, you will come to understand the power within the frailest of vessels. You cannot handle but that which you are presented. The choices must be made with-"

"If you say good intentions, I swear to God-"

"That's a start. At least by swearing to God, you can start to accept he exists."

"Bet those word games are killer at the Heavenly Bowling tournament, but not really impressive on me."

"Then you have one question to answer. If you woke up today, knowing that Sam's death would end all the battles in all the world, could you extinguish his existence."

"Shut up or so help me!"

"Or would you fight to restore the brother you know?"

"I'd walk-"

"Through fire for him."

"Don't- That's not on him. I choose that because-"

"I am well aware of your choice, but it was made without knowledge of what awaited you- Innocence. Even the wrong ones sometimes lead to a stronger forge. You mother understood this in her decision. Pure love for you and Sam. Choices made in innocence with pure hearts always find favor in faith. Mark that well."

"If I understood a flipping thing you spouted, I might! I'm afraid my handy Angel to human translator took the day off. Think you can give me a clue."

"You'll understand in time. For now, Sam is waiting for you. A host of friends that offer faith in you that you have not. Let them in."

"I would- you know I - He's my...my family. YOUR God would know that! I had to-"

"No, you did not have to make that choice. You must go where he sends you to those that are in need, beyond that we are all humble-"

"I don't care what you say. I'm not a puppet to anyone. What'd ya say about that?"

"Then you have already begun."

"SONOFA!" His anger so intense, he mouth spewed spittle instead of words and his fist pummeled any part of the creature he could. If heaven or God could be this cold, then he wanted no part of any of it. His punches screamed of injustice, frustration, sorrow, longing, and retaliation.

Finally, after the longest of time and many meaningless punches taken, Castiel captured both wrists. "Done?"

"Never." Dean could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile on the angel's lips, but he doubted it was capable of such an act.

"You cannot hurt me here. I am beyond what you understand. If you return to Sam's side out of duty or your own need, you will fall. Sam will fall. The choice will be there when you least expect it."

"Good! God asks me now not to turn him away! You have to be kidd-"

"Make the choice from innocence."

"I would never- What choice. I don't understand."

"Make the choice. But either has its own set of consequences."

"If I turned him away today, would he be safe?"

"I'm afraid you already know the answer of what path he would follow without you. It was why Mary begged to send you back."

"Can I trade for her? She's more important than me."

"You have no idea of your worth at all. Because all your heroes have fallen- ones you held in such regard- then you must also fail. Do you not see the best parts of them beat and live inside of you? That fact alone makes you dangerous to the demon's plan. How an extraordinary chance you have to affect so many with each action you carry out. Why are you so blind to it, when it is so obvious to your creator?"

"Guess it's easy when you have the answers."

"And the tasks before you are hard and take decisiveness. The first coming too soon for you to mull. You know the cold that moves within Sam. Firsthand. You saw it lead him from you. How can you lead him from doubt time and again? Therein lies your answer. Yet, the smallest number of words from you pushed it from Sam's heart. A brief warning- then no one could tell Sam that you were not you. His heart and burden lifted in ways you can only imagine . No amount of logic or words from a trusted friend could sway him from this belief. Why?"

"He's smart. He'll figure you out- just see."

"It is not my preservation that concerns me. Sam stands ready to fight at your side, but the smallest seed of doubt from you will foster demonic claims to take root. His need for self-punishment is suctioning him back to something the demon buried in him years ago. You must choose in this moment. To follow a road that you will fail time and again in vain attempts to save a mother who gave you a gift she did not ask for herself. Your pain in this effort will be immense."

"She's worth it!"

"You will lose her just as that path will destroy the Sam you know. Then you will be-"

"Alone." The blank dryness of his voice refused to obey his need to protest. Dean's stomach pitched.

"Why did you run from Sam and Bobby?"

"Cause they were going to kill me."

"You lie to yourself. You do not fear death. All the times you have stared it down, you haven't flinched. That is not why you could not face them that day."

"YOUR JACKED UP TEST!"

"The crushing power of being without them. You tied your soul to your family so anchored them to you, but when the line was cut, it was you that pulled into the undertow. The anger is not in the fact they distrusted your return. It seeps in the thought that they didn't need you."

"He doesn't and that's the way I want it! You think I want don't want him capable of fighting on his own?"

"Need of you in battle is not what I mean. Needing someone is not always for numbers in a war. Sometimes the smallest speck of dust can turn the universe. After all, God molded you from bits of clay and forever the cosmos were changed. Why do you fight for Sam?"

"Cause I'm supposed to."

Shaking his head, Castiel stared in wonder. "Then I have failed. Can you risk losing everyone?"

"What do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want. You're called to fight- to defend those that do not have your means or skills. You were chosen- saved."

"Then you've made a mistake."

"My Lord does not make mistakes. Why do you save others? Why are they important to you?"

"Cause that's why Dad taught me. No one else will fight. Tell that to God!"

"There are other hunters in the world. Why you?"

"You know what they did! I can't leave this life- not after what they did!"

"Vengeance? Interesting lie."

"You think I don't want to put every damn last one of them where they belong!"

"What if I offered you the option to simply walk away? Free. No pain- no demons-slate clean as promised."

"It can't be that easy!"

"It's what you've always wanted. Roots- ties to someone who will love you. Be a more to Lisa...father to Ben as you have dreamed of him being yours."

"He's not mine."

"Does that make you want him any less? Do you want that life? Normal?"

"I... I." His breath hitched.

"You can live free from all of this, but Sam will fall to the darkness without you."

"I don't understand. All the double speak. If I leave him, Sam falls. If I stay, Sam falls. What can I choose?! Why would God do this to me!?"

"Find the line between want and need. What we want is not always what we need. Mark that."

"I need my family. My Mom! Sam! My Dad! How can I walk away from any of them?"

"Fear not, if you are not capable of facing such pain, we will send you away from it all. If Sam does not need you, then we will make sure he can't bring the demon's plan to fruition."

"What are you saying? You could just kill him?"

"Yes."

"Oh, yes! It's that simple for you!" His jaw locked, protruding his cheekbones.

"Yes, it's that simple. If you fail to do as…"

"As I'm told! Hate to tell you, I never really liked the rules."

"Then you force me to act. You want too much."

"I want so little! How can you say that? How can- " Wetness flashed over his steel green gaze. "After all that happened to me down there. And on earth, I've sacrificed everything I had to save everyone. None of it mattered. None of it every mattered."

"Therein lies the problem, you latch onto everything you can grab, trying to prove how needed you are, special. You're father already knows you are special."

"Great, the holy boss thinks I'm special."

"I meant John, but God knows this too."

"Stop. Just stop."

"Let go of the fruitless battles within you. You have to realize Sam doesn't need you to win his battles."

"I don't want to hear anymore! Is God punishing me?"

"Very well, but you have been warned."

Without warning, his conversation dream with Castiel ceased, leaving only the pungent reality. Dean's eyes abruptly snapped open to find a strange bloated view of the world- unfocused and unformed as if his eyes were matted by too many images at once. Like a funhouse mirror, his eyes adjusted, distending the image in several blinks. He was kneeling on the floor as if prayer, pain shooting up his leg and on elbow supporting him against the wall.

Although the room was cool, Dean felt heated and uneasy. His arm punched forward until it felt as if he reached the limits in a stunted range of motion. He coughed a groan from his parched lips. As the pain shot up his legs, he fell sharply. Without thought, he reached out, grasping and finding handrail, straining to keep himself upright.

When he gained his bearings and sight, he flushed with heat. "NO!" Lights sputtered above him in a dingy stairwell. Quiet and empty. "You can't. You can't leave me here alone."


	19. Need

"Dean?" A voice called in the darkest part of the stairwell.

Dean startled, jumped alert, bracing for a fall back as he tried to get up, collapsing into the wall.

"Who! What?"

"I'm here now. You're not alone."

The voice sparked familiar. "S... ss...Sam?" The sound of his voice wonder shocked Dean still. Everything since he remembered his time with Mary in hell sputtered about unformed in his head- betrayal, promises, deals, loneliness, death, destruction, resurrection, choices, and fear. He wasn't sure of many things, other than he had been in Sam's and Bobby's custody and was sure he might be a goner by now and a sense of being a pawn in Heaven and Hell's game. "Stay away!"

The air in his lungs felt as useless as the smog from the sister's burning barn. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, the anger he felt at the angel for knowing the bitterness in his heart or the fact he felt it now when he heard Sam's voice. The angel! Castiel voice played like a record with a neatly placed groove in the surface to choose a path that might spare him pain, but knowing Sam would fall- die or worse.

"We've been all over this hospital looking for you. Couldn't you follow doctor's orders for once? Should have known my brother never does what's best for him."

When it Dean's turn to speak, his voice broke free like a crippled animal. His mind raced hearing the words "My brother." Beyond belief. Impossible. Not Sam. He couldn't be here. Castiel couldn't be right that Sam had come to save him. Dean's words splintered like the jagged bones colliding against each other, scrapping so hard that only part of a sound could escape. "B-br--brot-b-b"

"Brother. My brother." Sam commanded, hoping his tone would somehow erase everything- a prayer for it all just to snap shut and end.

"He said- said..."

"Who said?" He opened his hands, splaying his fingers. "It doesn't matter. Okay? Shortly, Sam stalked up steps, trying desperately not to appear frantic. His hand turned white as it slid up the rail. He loosened his grip enough to wipe his eyes quickly and brutally on his sleeve. His chest heaved from his strained breathing and his bottom lip quivered, but his jaw jutted out firm and strong. He was trying to put forth a brave front, taking a moment to process everything and get his emotions under control.

"Stay away. I can't do this...can't. Dean's mouth shifted, chattered frightened to say brother as if was unreal and unnatural- beyond belief. His mind emptied as he sat frozen, closing his eyes before he tried to pull away "Another test?"

"You've been hurt and you left your hospital bed. How did you get in here? This wing is locked and closed? It's not even finished yet."

When Sam moved forward, Dean flinched. His hand rushed to cover the multitude of sore spots to his body, finding there were too many to protect. Dean's back forged rigid beyond what the sling provided, obvious expectation of some harm locking and bracing him for impact. "I need you to…"

"No. Anything but-" Dean pulled back slowly, staggering away from him or more aptly falling back.

Yet, Sam snatched him before Dean had a chance to touch the floor and hugged Dean in a too tight compression. When a groan tore from Dean, Sam loosened a bit. "It's real." Sam whispered. "I'm really here. I need you to get better."

"Don't... Don't." Dean breathed deeply. His hand flying up half in defense and half in acceptance as if the appendage couldn't decide which reality to accept. There had been so many false realities in his mind, he didn't know anymore if he could distinguish if anything was real.

"It's over. I promise. We've been searching all over for you."

"Don't lie." The words snaked uneasy. At times more a whisper and groan than speech. "Dont. Don't." Dean's heart could take anything but false hope, not after all this. The threat of another loss would be the last speck to break him.

"I'm here, Dean." Sam swallowed down his guilt, pride, and worry. Finally, he burbled. "And I'm sorry. So sorry. I-"

Dean shoved back. A question painted his eyes.

Letting Dean rest against the cinderblock wall, Sam scooted a few steps away, giving his brother space. "I don't blame you for not trusting me after what happened. I only-"

"You don't need…me…. Can't do this."

"Are you kidding me! I came all this way to get you back. Someone has to cover my ass."

"That's all I am… solider. He was right... Only a hunter-"

"No…no… You're not. I searched because…" When Sam reached out, Dean jerked away, unaccepting.

"You couldn't have come back... back for me?" Heat smacked hard at Dean's body, fever spiking with any exertion.

"Always. Hufh. You know that. Right?" Sam forced his saliva to wet a dry hopeful throat. "Dammit, Dean. Man, I've screwed up. That's not who you are to me."

"Then… who am I? Why are we… in this mess?"

"God, I wish I knew."

"God won't help us." Dean's head lobbed to the side with a painful expression.

"Hey, hey, let's just get you better. Okay?"

"No… no… over."

"Dean, I don't know what to say. I don't care if you fight demons again or not. I know you don't need me to protect you. You've proved yourself capable of that too many times. All of this happened because of me. And you would be better off to stay away from me. I can deal with that, but I don't want to ever feel so lost without you again. You know, I've been thinking about stuff- stupid things. Ever since you died." He trembled a breath. "Just offhand memories. Like what you said when I joined my first debate team. Don't know why. Man, you were a horrible pain in the ass. I can't remember what you called me when I made finals. It's funny. I always thought I would. I thought I would hate your name calling forever, but I've completely forgotten what it was."

Sucking in another unexpectedly deep breath, Dean coughed. His fist balled on both hands and he wanted nothing more than to punch and scream. If movements weren't so painful, he would have. Why would Sam care about something so stupid at a time like this? "You can't let anything go…" Maybe the angel was right, he would lead Sam to anger and ruin him, but why would he also advise him if he left, Sam would fall.

"You can hit me if you want. Might make us both feel better."

"How?"

"I know you, Dean. Fists are much easier than dealing. I always remember that." He glanced up, making sure Dean hadn't gone off the reservation of consciousness. "But, this is one memory I won't let go. You know what else I recall about that debate?"

Sam waited to allow Dean time to response even though he knew there would be none. "That I sucked. In the history of moronic debate points, I was king of the morons. Then I looked out at the crowd. Most were waiting for me to fall flat on my face. Carrie Johnson seemed to feel sorry for me. Course I think that was because she was stalking to meet you. I vaguely think they had a bet going on who you would go after first. Course, you did start the rumor about your sexual prowess. Man, I wanted to beat you for that day. The only friendly face in the room is a girl that thinks you're good in bed!" He swallowed hard at a thickening in his voice. "Then, I looked out at the seats that were reserved for you and Dad. EMPTY. Just like my mouth and head that day."

"Did you think... you were in some movie and we would go to..."

"You were there." A stifled chuckle escaped Sam's lips. "I saw you in the shadow of the doorway. You moved too much. And suddenly, I kicked West Hamilton's ass good for them. Even when you thought the choices I made were stupid, you were there when I needed you."

"I came because the Hamilton football team was going to ambush you for dating Amber."

"What- they did?" He snickered with a squished nasally scoff. "Guess I needed you way more than I thought that day." He coughed offhanded, letting a free a chuckle of irony. "You're lying aren't you...? Doesn't matter. Still you were there. Always looking out for me. Didn't matter what it was or if you got hurt in the process. You made things happen. I never had a clue how much of a burden that was. You made it looks so easy."

In the next breath, the relief exhale lingered. "I can't save you?" Dean tossed his head as if to clear it. "I don't know...." Struggling, he left pain steal away his words.

"You don't have to save me. Dad never should have asked you for that. You know. One day, I was at Stanford and I had this huge presentation. It was this big monstrous parent thing. I found myself looking for you. Pissed me off. I was free and you and Dad still controlled part of me."

"I never tried to contr…"

"I know you didn't. It was me. I needed to tell myself you and Dad were still important to me, but I didn't know what to do about it. Hated myself for thinking of anything but my future in front of all those people. I never forgot you. You could have been hunting- knee deep in spirits, but you were in that room. To me you were there. AND I kicked serious ass."

Sam, stopping to get himself in check, gave Dean a scarring expression, turning away years of pain. "You never been a number to me. You were Dean and I can't lose you again. If you want to stay with Wanda and Gladys and hang up this life, I'll help you. But, I can't deal with not having you in my life. I cut that cord one too many times, took it for granted cause you were always superhuman to me. I can't turn around anymore and think I see you in the shadows just to find nothing. I can't face you're gone everyday. I no I have no right to feel sorry for myself after.... after all you did for me. And not just the deal. Everything. You just weren't here anymore and that hurt the most." Shifting, Sam sliped a step further down. "You just weren't here anymore."

A stark smile flashed on Dean's face as he shook his head. He darted pained hopeful eyes, searching for the truth as if it could be seen. Sam gave him a sideways smile with the slightest of head nods. When Dean Sam's eyelids lowered in self-doubt, Dean crumbled. And there is was. He gasped, sucking air in so quickly the intake froze bitterly cold. "I'm here now."

"Yeah?" His moved his hand quickly, letting a tear soak into the bandage. Good." Sam finally said as Dean's energy waned, propelling him a bit forward. Sam rushed to compensate the extra weight, forcing Dean to lull against a shoulder. When his brother didn't pull away, Sam did mind his presence. "Someone has to beat me at pool, tell me stupid jokes, don't know how I made it without a single dutch oven. Needed someone to make my life a living pain- be...be...be someone I can count on and be... just."

"T...true?"

"Count on it. I'm going to call Bobby. Get you to your room before the doc know you're gone and calls the sheriff back. Just relax." Dialing the number, he barely waited for Bobby's hello. "Got him. Closed Wing Stairs K. He's okay." With a rapid shut, he didn't wait for a response either. "He's okay." He said to himself.

Neither of them spoke for a while. From the gentle breathing next to his ear, Sam knew Dean had dozed off. He jutted his head back in a sharp angle, keeing the rest of him still to make sure Dean didn't move. His neck strained from stretching to the limits, so sharp he must have looked like one of the kids in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. He sighed and suddenly he was breathing loaded breaths. "I got you back. You're really here! He said to no one in particular, but would have shouted it to the world. As it was Dean stirred.

When the sounds of steps skittered from below, Sam bellowed waiting for Bobby to respond. "Up here." He wiped his eyes again with the tear stained gauze.

"I know where you are, Sam Winchester." Castiel's voice echoed long before his frame stepped from the shadows.


	20. Brothers

Dean shoved, pushing back, breaking Sam's ginger hold. "No. Can't have... can't have him." He slid out of Sam's arm, flopping as he haphazardly stood, protecting Sam, yet obviously unable to hold himself up as he grasped the stair rail.

Sam, not intending to let Dean protect him, moved, blocking Dean from the intruder, and took on rigid pose of battle. "I don't know who you are, but this doesn't concern you." He pulled the demon-killing knife from his boot.

"Deception already? Hiding a knife in a hospital is breaking the rules. As for concern, the concern is not mine. I'm waiting for a command. Dean knows why I'm here."

Lunging forward, Dean toppled almost crashing down the stairs. Only Sam's reflexes kept him from harm. One arm snaked around Dean and the other held out the knife.

"BACK OFF! You take a step towards Dean and I'll kill you. I'll-"

"You may have the power to do it, Sam, given the proper time, but that is up to your brother. He has to remember why."

"Remember what," Sam yelled. "If you've come to take him."

Betrayal. Dean's body disobeyed his need to defend Sam, flopping mostly as Sam struggled to hold him up and keep a guard against the man that had just joined them.

"But, I've come before you now when the hour is not high and the path is not so muddied by regret. A place where roads can change."

Dean couldn't escape the thoughts of his own mind. Castiel's voice replaced by his own. "You will be free. No pain- no demons. Make the choice. Sam will fall."

"I need my little brother...you...you can't..." Dean said clearly, driving closer to Sam as if he had to hold on or his brother would disappear. "Please...please." Tears soaked Sam's shirt. "Sam. Family." He huffed, the strained words taking away the air that he needed. He may not have had power to fight, but he defied anything to try to change his decision. If God himself told him to leave his family behind, he would stand against it. He chose pain over selfish comfort. Sacrifice over losing a brother. The demon's had claimed too many of them- John- Mary. They even got him and Sam, but no more!

"Do you love him Sam?"

"What!

"I chose- I-" Facing away from the Castiel, he fixed on Sam before crumpling to the floor. Sam lowered him gently. Dean grew quiet, but the rise of fall of his shoulders foretold the emotional turmoil within him.

"You don't have to choose anything Dean. Least of all me." His voice turned hard, cold, and flat. "Whatever you want, you can't have it. None of you will ever have claim on him again!" His voice started the gentle reading of a memorized exorcism.

"No need for that, Samuel. I need only answers—For now."

"If I love him!? He's my brother. What do you think!? I died when he did. And you can't take him from me again. All my life you damn things did unspeakable things to him. Never again. He's better than all of you! A better person- ."

"Why is saving Sam and others important, Dean?" The angel took a daring step.

"Cause they...deserve it...all of them. They need us... We...Just because...because...they just do... please."

"I suggest you back off." Sam reassured that he could fight if necessary.

"Life isn't about what you kill or the battle, but the lives you move towards the light. You understand now. Remember well that sometimes the answer for what you want is no."

"Take your demonic ass-" Putting distance between he and Dean, Sam ready to make the first strike. The man glanced with a strange fondness at them.

"Not demon...not..."

"I can do this. He won't-" When Sam shifted in order to shield Dean, he found only darkness. Castiel simply gone. No footsteps. No signs.

"What was that?"

"He's gone?"

"Yeah what's going on?"

"Won't believe me." With that, Dean flopped to his elbows, crashing down to the cement step, but he made no complaint as his leg and shoulder screamed in agony, stabbing pain through him.

"Dean! Easy. Easy. I always believe you. Hold on now." He sccoped him up, resting Dean's head against a shoulder, watching intently for signs of Castiel's return while taking measures to keep Dean relaxed. One hand kept hold of Ruby's weapon, drawn and ready to take anything that threatened to rip them apart. No amount of doubt or demons would ever break up their family again.

"Did you mean it?" Dean asked clearly with pain pinching his features.

"You know I did. When I lost you, I was gone too- destructive, dead, reckless. I never got to tell Dad I loved him or that I forgave him for things I know he probably couldn't have changed. I held that grudge in my heart for so long that I didn't even have the real reason anymore. Then you came back into my life, and I felt sick. I had this perfect delusion of real life. But, I never fit in at school. I could fake it, hide the parts of me that were- were just wrong. I never knew when I did that I mocked all you had ever done. How's that. All those IQ points and I am so stupid. What do you think about that?"

Merely a groan pushed from Dean.

"I learned everything from you. Everything good and decent. I kept thinking man, if my big brother can be that strong- that selfless the world has be a place worth fighting for. But it wasn't. All I saw was your pain. I thought if I left, you would too. That Dad would drive you away and you would have no reason to stay. I didn't understand Dean. Forgive me. God please. You kept me from spinning after Jess… We lost Dad and I thought there was nothing worse. Then…" He took a breath, holding it for a second. "I thought if Dean can keep going under all that pain, I owed it to you to keep going too. Something had to make you fight so hard. There was some prize at the end of this that would be worth the price. I almost believe in goodness and the world was going to be right. ..."

As footsteps echoed again, this time above them, Sam startled, wondering from with angle the battle might come. However, when Bobby's face came into view, he let his anxiousness fall away like tiny bead of rain slithering down a leaf.

"Something came! Demon I think."

"Where'd it get to?"

"Vanished. We need to get him to safety. If something's coming." Sam pushed his knife back in his boot, relying on Bobby to take point in protecting them.

"We won't. Whatever it is, we won't let it get to him."

"Not demon...not." Dean, obviously expecting to explain Castiel, twitched, struggling to find his footing and hoping to put on a show of force he didn't really have strength to forge. Yet, Bobby and Sam, easing him away from the wall, blocked his intentions and path instantly.

"Whoa there big fella. What in all thing's holy are you doin' in here?"

"I understand...I get it now. He brought me... "

"Okay, alright. We'll figure it out. Come on, knucklehead." Bobby coughed uncomfortable, but his hand supported the back of Dean's head and patted gently. "Easy, kiddo."

"You came after me, too?"

"Not like we have much choice, you're a persistent pain in our backside. Damn if you still don't owe me 20 bucks." Bobby gripped Dean's head stronger as he soothingly tapped the back of the boy's head. "Plenty of time to figure everything out. Just promise me you'll stay put, Okay?"

"Let's get you up. You're going to hurt yourself." Sam shifted him, cradling to restrict movement.

Each of them took extreme care. There had been enough pain in the past few days to last more than ten lifetimes. "Let's get you back to your room."

"You're going to be fine. Not too bad really. Doc took good care of you before you wandered off."

"Didn't need….me….."

"Bah, who told you such a lie?"

"We always need you, kiddo."

* * *

The wind whipped, fluffing the overcoat covering Castiel. The angel looked out from the hospital roof, waiting and watching. Finally he spoke, "You were wise to separate them. He is strong."

A large figure, close to the substance of shadows, appeared behind him.

"We want him back.'

"No."

"You have no claim."

"I don't need a claim to take that which is God's" Castiel's hand went out, touching the creature with a finger, watching it scream in pain. "Tell your master, she should surrender now or her fears about Dean will come to past. He is everything that creeps in the dark of her mind. His hand flashed and the shadow disappeared as if being sucked in a black hole. "Be gone."

"He is ready, father. The need of vengeance or retribution is dead. They are worthy of being saved."

* * *

As soon as the trio arrived back to Dean's assigned room, after carefully navigating the halls unseen, the sisters were waiting, running interference with any staff coming to check on Dean.

"And just what were you doing out? This will not do. You have to rest." Wanda ordered as she saw Dean struggle to get free from Sam's grasp. His fever started to regroup, burning with renewed brightness.

"Boy, when you take off, you don't kid around." Bobby supported more of Dean's weigh, grasping around the rib cage. More or less, dragging Dean into the room, Sam and Bobby forced the door shut.

"Did you really see him... see him Sam?" Dean sputtered the question, searching for Castiel.

"Who, dear?" Gladys straightened the blanket, getting the covers ready again.

"Sam's here. Bobby, Gladys and I."

"Him... him."

None of them attempted to reason with Dean. Just the fact he had survived not only hell, but the past week was miraculous in itself.

"Don't rightly know. But, I'll find him for ya." Bobby humored Dean's derailed train of thought, as they weren't going to leave him unprotected. "He's still burning' up, but it'll break if he stays till. Not too dangerous- YET." Bobby shook his head."Easy. Time to talk and sort later." He needed reassurances and Bobby was glad his voice could sound demanding when his heart was not.

Dean murmured, gaining increments of sight clarity as he leaned heavily on Sam and Bobby.

"You'd think he would be aware of that after all he went through." Wanda instructed.

"You want us to help get him back to bed?" Gladys rubbed the stiff brace on Dean's back and shivered from how cold it felt. "Time to take it easy."

"I can't get to Mom... can't."

"It's okay. I'll help you. Fight with you. I know about.... You were- were talking when we- I know about Mom." Sam's foot moved anxiously, shifting to take the pressure off Dean's leg and to stop his blathering.

"Left her- my fault- my... I chose! Make it right now! Make it. I did what you wanted..." Yet he wasn't speaking to Bobby or Sam, but to Castiel or maybe even God.

"Bullshit, Son." Losing a bit of his calmness, Bobby's voice lowered with the gruffness of a buzz saw.

"Mom saved you. She brought you back. Don't ask me to be sorry for it. She knew I needed you."

"Mom...promised- tricked me... Can't get her. Made me..."

"Hush that up now. We need you to rest up. Can't lay around forever." She ordered Dean, but Wanda tapped Sam's shoulder, prompting him to stifle the keening pitch that came from his open mouth.

Dean glanced sluggishly at the sisters, searching for some way to validate his guilt and looking for allies to understand. When he saw the relaxed happiness on the sister's faces, he crumbled, pushing closer to Bobby and Sam. He had chosen.

"Oh, dear boy. Don't you understand that mothers always put children first?" Straightening the blanket again, Gladys took to fluffing his pillow to occupy her hands.

"She didn't give you a choice because there was no choice. You were her baby." Wanda pushed a stray strand of her hair, which she usually had perfectly in place.

"I have to- have to get her- but it said I- have to save you, Sam. Have to."

"You already did. Don't do this to me ever again. I won't let you go where I can't follow."

"You'll follow?" Dean muttered.

"Always. If I have to look up to my big brother, guess that mean I have to stick around. YOU have to stick around." Sam swore. "If you'll let me-"

"The deal. Can't go for her. Promised. He tricked me- she made me promise."

"I didn't promise! Let them try to hold me back. I never gave up finding a way for you. Whatever deal or promise you had to make, it's not mine. I'll find a way. Just don't- don't-"

"What he means is that you don't get to go without us. No matter how much you dislike it."

Dean sighed, relaxing boneless against them, feeding on the safety and acceptance. "You came."

"Of course they did." Wanda told him. "And it's quite a story for you once you are feeling better."

"I know I can save Mom. I know it can be done now. I tried to reach you for months and when you were in front of me, I couldn't- I won't make that mistake again. Not with you- not with Mom."

Then the words the winged man spoke came to Dean. He couldn't just fight for Sam as a protector and he couldn't just walk away. He had been on that road too long and somewhere along the way, he forgot who he was and why he would sacrifice for Sam repeatedly. Just being brothers was enough, he would always need that, and amazingly, Sam did too. He never really stopped to think about that. "Do you think...Mom knew... knew that?"

"Knew what? That she was saving you? She had to, but I'll get our Mom out of there."

Without knowing it he had lead Sam away from the darkness, reminded him of more than demons and pain. Dean wondered if he had come back one day later, would Sam have been too far gone?

The sound of his Sam's voice took on tones that only happened when Sam defied their father. Somehow, youngest son always got his way when he took on that inflection. Dean imagined the angel had met a match in Sam. "That's what he was telling me...I'll be damned." He faltered, his body calling for rest, but he refused to close his eyes. If he let himself go, he somehow believed it would all end. Sam, Bobby, Wanda, Gladys- none of them would be real but just a torment especially designed for him.

"I got ya." Sam supported more of Dean's boneless weight and Bobby followed doing the same. Soon Dean stood under none of his own power.

His right hand clasped around Sam, latching and wadding a fist full of dirty flannel shirt. The smell of smoke oozed from the fabric, shoving in with his open mouth breath. He burrowed his head so tightly in the crack between their shoulders, striving to pour into that space. Only Dean's back held rigid from the brace, but the muscles and bones within relaxed. The rest of him molded like liquid to a glass.

His heart pumped fast and uneven trying to get back normal speed, but he could feel again. It had been so long since he felt anything, much less have it returned. Wanda's cool palm stroked his neck, beseeching him to nudge closer to Bobby and Sam.

"Poor sweet boy." A feather escaped the pillow clutched in Gladys's hand.

"Now, now. All this fuss is a bit much. Plenty of time." Wanda demanded.

Before he realized, Dean sank back into the hospital bed, having Sam and Bobby move him without notice. All the while, Gladys fussed over the placement of each blanket fold. His right hand lost its grip, falling down to the coolness of the mattress.

A vague awareness washed over him and Bobby reinserted the IV, plugging the machine back to life. "Think you can stay here this time?"

Nodding, he felt light headed, but safe. Bobby and Sam were here for him. His strange, off kilter, strangely wonderful family that he had left didn't give up on him. The struggles he imagined in fusing them back together melded without a single effort. He didn't need them because of safety in numbers; he just needed each of them. Period. End of Story. No arguments. Dean smirked through his chattering teeth.

He heard Gladys pant as she rubbed the tension in his forehead with a honey-scented hand. He smirked. It actually made him feel strong and powerful. Whatever reason that made the sisters take to him, he couldn't rally argument against it. Then it struck him. He wasn't alone. Even when he cut off everything, the sister had been there. Plus, Sam and Bobby found a way to the truth despite the hope he lost. He arched his head into Gladys's fingers, feeling comfort since the longest of times and then without notice a few minutes later, his head started swimming.

Suddenly, Wanda weaved her fingers in-between his. He curled his fingers slightly, letting them relax in hers.

"Whoa. You best get some shut eye or I could seek these girls after you. Hear they can whoop anyone's kiester in a hundred mile radius. They seem to have a slap first ask questions later policy."

Dean chuckled. And it was good to hear him laugh as if that single sound could cut the iron thick tension.

"We still got business. We need to seal that door. Salt."

"You won't find any here and the cafeteria is long closed." Gladys instructed.

"Not coming. He's finished..." Understanding that Castiel would more than likely return with more hard choices and things to piss him off, Dean was just as sure that today wasn't that day. After Sam promised to save their mother, the choice he made had obviously been the correct one. "No good...not a demon."

"I don't care. He can't have you." Sam fought a few tears successfully; however, Dean's voice wrecked his resolved, ending the battle. Water bite hard at the corner of his lashes and he batted his lids quickly to keep the stream from pouring in a damn burst.

"Real?" Dean looked up, reaching out at the muddled faces before him. He had to be sure. Somehow, the idea of asking the question would make it be so.

"Real as rain on Sunday!" Wanda spouted to which Dean slipped a chuckle.

"So very real, dear one." She placed a warm, honey kiss on his forehead. He didn't have to have clear vision to know Gladys.

She always smelled as if she fell straight out of a batch of warm cookie dough, which even overpowered the iron scent of his tears and the musky smoke clinging to her clothing. In truth, Dean didn't mind the fact she had a nature to match it- hard exterior-warm squish middle. Just as sure, he knew Wanda was watching them all with her perfectionist eye- perhaps with a loaded shotgun, trying to feed them all Burgoo.

Bobby would be at his and Sam's side- smack in the middle of any turmoil the brothers could get into. He would be full of country-inspired wisdom that sometimes Dean thought came from a bad, worn out honky tonk song. Yet, it always seemed to fit the situation. Man of best intentions, accepting wisdom, perfect second father.

In the lead, Sam would be standing over him with a pensive look. The last hold out to everything. The one to question every step, drive him crazy, make daily life a pain. He would be standing too close right now, trying to be brave when he was a wreck. He would have the best poker expression painted so well that not even Dean could figure out what Sam was thinking, but then just when it seemed impossible Sam would crack and tell it all in just one glance.

In that one instant all the damage, grudges, and battles for the future forged hard behind a wall inside of him. Dean was sure it would trickle out from time to time, facing painful images of the past, hell, and inner demons, but for now, this was more than he wanted or imagined. No matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't find or strategize a way to make Bobby and Sam believe him, yet here it stretched out before him and all he had to do was choose to take it. Seize it for himself. Be selfish! Take it!

For once, it was that simple. He could just grab on with all his might and it would be that perfect. Unanswered questions, riffs, and pain be damned. They had no place here- only family.

"Damn straight it's real kid. As sure as the times I wanted to put buckshot in your Daddy's ass." Bobby expected another slight chuckle, but Dean only gave up a painful sounding sigh of relief.

The sound so odd, Sam suddenly felt cotton mouthed. "Dean- what I did..."

"What we did to find you was a bitch." Taking a step closer, Bobby gave Sam a playful nudge.

Sam glanced back at Bobby. "I screwed up." He felt a sharp elbow to his side and he only afforded Bobby one glance before he rambled on. "Guess that's what WE do. I don't know how to do this, Dean. They never had a class on this at Stanford." Sam let a tear fall. "I can't ask you."

"What he's trying to say is that he and I shop at the same thick head store. Want us to pick you up your own hard head?" Bobby asked, trying hard to work up to an apology that sounded right without excuses- not that he had any reason good enough to offer.

"Don't-" He mumbled sleepily.

"Boy, you don't get many ass kissing moments. You did good back there without a clue about us. Sounds like an I told us so moment. And you are more than entitled to take it."

"It's true Dean. I can't say sorry and make it go away."

"Don't need-" He sniffled but there was no emotional drive behind it. He hadn't been so relax in decades, much less since he came back. The last time he felt this warm fuzz headed was when John gave him too much codeine-laced cough syrup as a teenager.

"This isn't right. None of it. This isn't how it goes down. Strange ass men lurking on stairs that may or may not appear on the next dateline predators- all this.... I'm supposed to pick at ya and say shit boy! Whatcha doin' out here in the middle of nowhere and you're supposed to give me some smartass answer to make it all okay." Adjusting his ball cap, Bobby knocked a bit of soot on the extra clean hospital linens.

Dean chuckled, giving him a glance as he yawned. He let himself fall into a knowing grin.

Bobby and Sam both searched, digging for something- some word- that would erase the inerasable between them and tell of their trust in Dean.

Bobby was right. This wasn't how it was supposed to go down, but Dean instantly knew the right thing to say. "Vacation. Wally world. Forgot the camera. Don't eat the food." Dean gave him a pained smile, full of relief and acceptance.

"Oh my!" The sister erupted in laughter, not explaining the inside joke among them.

"Is he always this grateful?" Even Wanda tucked a side of a blanket in, narrowing a bright squint at Dean."

"Hell, boy you can't make it that easy".

"Can." He defied. He had nothing but his will to fight and win this war. He would give trust one last dying hope.

"It'll be okay?" Sam breathed deeply, holding back. His voice became measured and soft. He slumped down on edge of the bed.

"It will be. We'll make sure of it." Bobby promised, whispering back.

"But there is so much to-"

Wanda moved forward, grabbing Sam hand with her other hand, linking Dean and Sam in a chain. "History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again." She blinked at him like a wizen sage from some Shakespearian tragedy.

"Oh, don't think she's all that. She stole that!"

"You are such a blabber mouth. I thought it quite profound to use it."

"Roosevelt said it first!"

"We'll he's dead. What's he using the words for now?"

Acquiescing, Sam swallowed hard. "I…. I'm here if you need me."

"I know." Dean said quietly.

"I can't return the time you lost." Aching shivers ran down Sam's spine, he forced himself to suppress them. "But facing threats together is worth more to me-"

"Sam?"

"Yeah? Are you in pain? Need something?

"Already got...what I want...what I need."

"Food? Do you-"

"Sammy?"

"What can I do? I can call-"

"Stop talking." His teeth clicked as he over pronounced each syllable. He cocked his head, trying to pull off his best irascible rendition of hardcore, but he diverted into a slight amused sneer before his face fell expressionless. He sank deeper into his pillow, possibly less shattered and defeated. For all the demon plans and deals, he was alive. Sam was alive and that was all that mattered. "Don't eat the... Burgoo."

"I- What?"

Even with his eyes closed, he could sense the glower on Sam's expression. He didn't need to see the anguish and confusion that murdered any chance of Sam keeping up a game face. Sam would be worried, hurt, confused and questioning every step he took in the past and from now on. That wouldn't do. That couldn't do. And so, well before he let himself slip to a peaceful, dreamless sleep, he offered one more craggy toned word, finally capable of giving it form. "Brother." Somehow, that was enough.

"Always." Sam smiled. "Count it."


	21. Epilogue

**_Author's Note: Okay, the ending nagged at me, so I had to add this little piece. I suffer from a sickness- thinking too damn much. So, I had to write this just to get out 2 lines of dialogue! I may need help._**

* * *

**Epilogue**

**3 weeks later…**

"Did you settle everything?"

Gladys gave Wanda a gouge in the side to indicate she was talking too loudly. "Ernest set it all up. When the trumpet rolls, this place will be all theirs- lock, stock, and ancient barrel. Maybe one day those boys can rest and they'll need somewhere to hang a hat."

"I'll miss them." She sniffed.

"Now, now. You know things don't last forever and God gave us them when we needed them most."

"Felt good to be needed again." She openly sobbed, pausing at the kitchen door.

Wanda squeezed hard on her sister's shoulder. "Hmmm... At least they'll have somewhere to come should they ever need us. Do you think they'll want this old place?"

"It's theirs regardless. Who else can we leave it to?"

"Good point. Now get the game face on, we can't let them see us all flustered and bothered."

After a few brief seconds, Gladys pushed the kitchen door open, finding only Bobby and Sam waiting. "Hope you aren't in a hurry?"

"We got some time."

"Good. I'm making you some beef pot roast for the road. Growing boys and all that. Do you think that is enough?" She stirred the large pot, which might hold 10 gallons.

"That'll be plenty. You really shouldn't go to the trouble." Sam stood helping Gladys remove the pot from the hot stove.

"Nonsense. We have to feed our boys." She sniffled.

"You've done more than enough. I owe you in ways I can't ever-"

"Just be safe. Now where did that Tupperware get off to?" Digging in a ramshackle cabinet as several lids and bowls clattered on the floor, Gladys finally pulled out the biggest plastic bowl Sam had ever seen.

"That storage container will never work. It's warped." Grabbing at the bowl, Wanda yanked it from her sister's fingers.

"Shut up, you old bat. Give that back." Gladys warned waving a large wooden spoon at her sister. "Who's the cook in this family?"

"I am."

"I call bullshit."

"Now, ladies all this is totally unnecessary." Bobby stepped between them, blocking the sisters from arguing.

Sam merely chuckled and glanced out the window at Dean. Yet, he couldn't begrudge his brother some solitude from time to time.

"Dean's a healing boy; he'll need cloves of garlic to make the blood thicker and..."

"And a cast iron stomach!" Wanda moved passed Bobby and Gladys as she tossed in some unknown herb.

"You're going to ruin it!"

"Silly goose."

"Addle brain!"

The sisters continued to argue about the best recipe and ingredients when Bobby tossed up his hands. "I officially surrender. Stick a fork in me."

"Better not say that too loud or they might fork you."

"Might risk it if we weren't heading out." Bobby peered out the window bearing a stare on Dean's back. "Looks like he healing up fairly well."

"Yeah, good enough for him to be stir crazy at being cooped up."

"Doubt that's all it is. Why don't you go on out there? I can handle these two and packing up."

"You sure?"

"Git!"

* * *

Dean hovered on his calf muscles, scooting down to sit on a rock near the frozen pond. Just beyond, the old barn lay to scorched waste and he could help but sense a pang in his gut. "I'm sorry Holley. I wish I could have save you- saved your Dad. If there is a God, I hope he found you."

His dirty fingers dug down into the frozen ground, freeing a jagged stone from its earthly grave, flicking and skidding it hard down the thick water mirror surface. When it joined the mass of other pebbles on the far end of the water, he closed his eyes finding only a flash of hell there.

From a distance, Sam watched over his brother, always mindful to give Dean space. He was halfway to the pond when he saw Dean bow down in a horrid flashback. When a groan echoed oddly, he couldn't resist the temptation of joining his big brother. Space was one thing, watching Dean in pain quite another.

"I'm going to rip you apart." The voice hissed into Dean's ear as fresh from memory as it had been the day it was said. "You're going to be our favorite."

He shook his head, forcing the creeping pain back. His eyes closed briefly and when he opened his eyes, spheres of sunlight splattered out golden streaks, playing on crystals in the ice in a spectacular light show.

"Got one of those for me?" Sam coughed, sitting down next to Dean on the frozen ground, holding out a hand for one of the stones Dean had collected, but none was offered. "Vision?"

Confused as to how Sam approached so silently, Dean realized he must have drifted. He hated being helpless. "It's okay now, I got it under control. Sometimes, they just happen." He shifted his foot for no other reason than to keep his mind in the here now. The throb in his leg relayed he had been here for too long and his last painkiller had long since worn away. He shuffled and fumbled inside his jacket pocket, retrieved a bottle of pills, ripped off the lid, tossed two in his mouth like he chugged beer, and swallowed dry and hard.

"Pain bad?"

"I don't know who I am any more, Sammy." Staring with an unfathomable expression, Dean shrugged his shoulder and threw the next stone like a baseball, watching it plunk through the ice. The ripples in the wake continued for a minute while Dean concentrated on the intricate rings and splashes.

Sam waited for the splashing and ice cracking to subside before he spoke, meeting his brother's challenge head on. "You're Dean."

"Hmmm… cute."

"Learned to be a smartass from my brother. It's one of his more annoying, but useful habits." Sam brushed the back of a scarred hand across his nose and sniffed. "You ready to get going?" His wound already fading so light it was unseen.

"Yeah."

"We aren't going to push you to this. But, Bobby may not last another week with Wanda and Gladys. I think they're loading the Impala with enough provisions to feed a 3rd world nation."

"They mean well."

"Yeah, I kinda like them--- which is why I would understand if you… You have to carry on with your life. I know how that is."

"I'm ready. Just thinking." His voice crusted over with unspoken pain like an old scar you have the urge to scratch but you shouldn't. Instead, Dean skidded a slick pebble into the fissure he made just before, following it as it plunked in the icy depths.

"Nice shot."

"Yeah, still have my aim."

"You know you can talk to me." Sam waited, breathing deeply, trying to control the various questions in his mind.

"It's like I walked into this dream that can't be right. Even more surreal than before with Angels and Demons."

"I did some research on Castiel, if that is the truth of who that was."

"Mom seemed to know him. Called him by name."

"Don't know. Heaven kissing your butt kinda makes me feel better. You know he's the angel of Thursday in some lore."

"Yeah, and that makes me feel better?"

"You died on a Thursday at 9:58 p.m."

"You timed it out?"

"I'll never forget it. You didn't even get the last 2 hours before midnight."

"Like that time would have made a difference."

"It did to me." Sam mouthed. "So I guess the angel owed you a bit of time for slacking off on his job."

"Doubt it."

"You're here now and things well be better-"

"You have no idea what they did to me," Dean started. "They torture you into believing whatever they want." He inhaled heavily.

"Dean, I-". Frustration balled inside his stomach, a sickness for the price Dean paid for him. He couldn't feel sorry for himself for no how dreadful he felt, Dean had the right to feel worse. Squinting, Sam slated a glance the panged, haggard breaths that ensnared Dean's voice.

"Don't. I don't blame you. Don't look at me like that. I didn't mean that."

"Sure you did." Sam elbowed Dean lightly, "But, it's fine. I can't share what happened to you. For as damn sure, I would if I could. I would take it all away."

"I know that. I don't want you to. Cause I can live with the pain."

"I prayed so hard that there's somebody listening that would help me find you- save you. No matter how you feel right now, this is where you belong."

"Yeah. I have to save who I can."

"You know, it's kind of funny," Sam kicked hard, digging his heel into a groove on the ice.

"What?"

"Countless demons and pure evil must have killed thousands of hunters and good people over the years. Then they killed our Mom and pretty much assured their own end. Talk about a colossal screw up on their parts. If they knew that my brother was going to be such a badass-"

"I'm not doing this for revenge." His desire to save humanity outweighed any need for retribution. He'd saw John walk that road and witnessed how it tore what was left of his family apart.

"Did you think I didn't know that? I mean, at first, that was why I stuck around. With Dad missing, I got scared that something had taken him too. And I thought if I looked away, they would get you too."

"You needed to get over Jess."

"That was part of it, but not all. I finally understood where you were when Mom died. How it must have twisted you all around. And I couldn't even function when Jess died! You marched on, helped raise me, and kept Dad from the edge. But, you killed the yellow-eyed demon and made that right. You could have stopped right then and no one would blame you. Not you, though. You picked up- kicking ass as soon as we could."

"Actually, I always wanted to die in some blaze of glory heroic sacrifice, mainly which dealt with me driving my car as fast as possible in this James Bond like special effect that defied the laws of the universe. Now dying doesn't seem to be so appealing- cause it kinda hurts."

"Got to say, I haven't enjoyed it myself. Guess that means you have to go of old age in your sleep. See you had to come back to push me around and race me in my scooter thing."

"You're a sick bastard, Sam."

"Oh, yeah. That's it." Sam reached out, punching Dean's good arm slightly, but shock flooded through him when he felt coldness. "I got something for you. Might make you feel better."

"I'm okay, really."

"Fine. I can just keep it." Dangling from a cord, Dean's gold charm swayed in front his hands, moving like Sam was trying to hypnotize him. "I hear it wards of warts, sheep, Billy Bob Thornton, and the occasional Bigfoot."

"Nah, just a myth." Dean chuckled, wiping a bit of water from his eyes. "I mean you're here and you're the original Sasquatch. That was just a story I used to tell my little brother to make him think I was in control and could protect him."

"Poor sucker! Fell for it every time."

"Yeah, kinda a dumbass that way. He couldn't organize a pissing contest in a brewery."

"Cause the bigger one kept drinking all the beer, leaving said little bro unarmed."

"Snooze you lose. See total dumbass."

"Guess you better keep an eye on him." Sam's voice cracked.

"I don't know." Dean scrunched up his face. "He's a lot of trouble."

"Oh, he is. But, I hear he has this whole weird respect for his big brother and missed the hell out of him."

"You really think?"

"Yep. He kinda was lost without him and if said big brother isn't doing anything?" Sam sniffled.

Taking a breath, Dean smiled. "I hear his calendar is open actually."

"Good." Sam hands the amulet over. "Causes he's got first drive"

"Should have known the little brother would turn to demanding bitch." Dean baited waiting for Sam to continue skirting the issues. He pitched the amulet over his heart and swore he felt a warming sensation.

"That's cause big brother's is where he belongs and little brother really missed him." There was no playfulness in his voice, not even an indication the word Jerk existed.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam."

"Good. " He straightened and evened his speech. "Neither am I."

"But someone better tell little bro he's stuck with 10 hours of Metallica when we get to the car."

"I think he already knew that, but I'll warn him when I see him."

Dean stood uneasily, pressing down with his right to compensate for the agony in his left side. "Better move your ass then, we got a lot of miles ahead of us."

* * *

**------------THE END------------**


End file.
